Below air

We have been trying to understand each other below sea level.
Our foundation becoming the water dust we walk on,
particles of our history a blurry mist each time our feet touch ground.
"Make me a home."
"Give me new," are the words that spew out of her mouth whenever she breaks through waves.
Burst of water collected in her lungs since living with him at the bottom of the ocean.

They were trying to think at a level where minds combust.
Think through them.
How to build a home together underneath all this density.
She wanted him to wrap her body in the kelp he lay his head on at night.
She wanted to appear as a seaworld goddess. His.
Hoped this was the picture of her on the mantle piece in his mind.

He simply wanted to rest,
to keep the kelp as a bed for his thoughts.
Resented her suggestion that his rest be used for her adornment.
He didn’t understand that she just wanted to be the beheld.
She didn’t understand that at the bottom of the sea he couldn’t even hold himself.
Neither ever realized the other wasn't breathing anymore.
Their ignorance rising with the water dust they walked on.