Sargassum by Louise Kim
if i can’t keep my head above water,
at least i have the fish to watch.
hiding between leaves of seagrass,
they dart by, free.
sargassum floating above me,
brown bouquets of the sea.
clumps of vines, leaves,
round beads of air to stay afloat.
within tenderness, there is rage,
though you may not see it.
my fingers are pruning
and numb, but there is a bliss
to all of it. i know without looking
that rays of sun
still pierce through the algae,
still (barely) graze my skin.
i look up at slices of lightness,
at the promise of more fruitful days.
that’s for later, i tell myself,
while the world rushes out from below me.
Louise Kim is a student at the Horace Mann School in the Bronx, NY. Their writing has been published in a number of publications, including Et Cetera Magazine, Girls Right the World, and Oneul Zine, and is forthcoming in Ricochet Review. Her work has been nationally recognized by the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards. In their free time, Louise enjoys practicing archery, studying French, developing their spiritual practice, and reading and writing.