Humpback
To change is to actively love,
adaptation is an act of love.
Adaptation is survival.
The whale did not survive
because of us; they changed us.
They did not change for us.
They sang love deep into our bones,
a frequency of awe and shame,
their gallons of blood spilled
like black oil and ink
as fingers lengthening
into the deepest
parts of our bodies.
They took hold of our hearts,
their songs a low tide
that furrows and froths
makes our hairs stand on end,
it is the curdling of milk,
the froth of cream,
the quick intensity of a rip tide.
Their song is the smell of rebirth
their old blood vibrating
the ocean floor into a ripple,
into a whale’s dance.
Their song moves the ocean
into currents and storms.
Their sounds erupt from their bellies,
they transform the ocean
into its darkest self.
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