translating a shell
can i learn in a small space?
inside game. crawl . there’s so little i know,
why go outside? actual size inches
the research smaller.
still spirals!
i don’t have the words
for bumps,
or stitching
that isn’t stitching.
only hole.
plants all around me
and i don’t know their names.
trash around. (i know its name: yogurt container.)
and dead sea mammals.
i want to translate
in a beside-you way,
close but not palming you,
not using the words
i don’t even know.
-shellby london salemi
To Me: Travel Writing
You go into the ocean in Malaysia. The water is warm, transparent. It’s nighttime. It’s a shallow sandbar and you go horizontal, facing up, above the sand but under the surface of the water. You’re suspended, gazing up at the stars and moonlight. There’s a slight undulation, warm, and you hover, going in and out just slightly, with the tide, as the sea grass sways. It’s hard to remember you were ever not a mermaid. It’s so warm. You need to become aware of your toes, each of them individually. There need to be ten of them and you need to count them. You start to forget already. But then this thought comes through, that you ate ais kacang yesterday, and now this is not the most peaceful warmth, now you remember you’re not a mermaid, just a horrible person. And your toes, you can remember them, because they are cold and chunk like the toppings that were in your dessert. You must have ten, or else you are staying here forever, and you would decompose that way. Waterlogged. Water log your left little bean toe, red bean. You must be aware of each individually, no cheating. Go into the toe with your mind, fill its volume and shape with your consciousness. Despite what could be pleasing about the enveloping water, the tiny fish nibbles and sea plants and warm sand awareness, the moonlight warming. The moonlight tugging, ever so slightly, your hair moving, suspended, tugging at your scalp ever so slightly in a massage. Just on the shore there would be foliage, big and frondy with monkeys. Driftwood and a tiny crab. More desserts waiting at the resort buffet. Coconut tapioca in a martini glass and mango lassi. Chinese noodles for breakfast. You’re feeling like a horrible person in your stomach again. Another toe, next to the little one. Peanut toe. Then the basil seeds toe. Corn toe. Clump of corn toe. Seaweed chunk toes, two unique. Shaved ice toes. Jelly toe. -Shelby London Salemi