the first time i step into the ocean i do it wrong.

too fast. too eager. the waves slam into my shins like hands that want me to stay, like hands that want me to drown. i think, maybe this is why they tell us never to come here. maybe this is why they say the ocean is a mouth that never stops chewing.

but the thing is, i have never been wanted before, and i have never been held. so i let it.

i walk deeper. the water pulls at my ribs like it wants to unbutton me. every part of me loosens. the air feels farther away, and i do not mind.

they said there were monsters here, but i think they meant me.

i think about my mother, who told me the ocean would swallow me whole. she said this like a warning. she said this like she did not understand that some things are meant to be eaten.

i let go.

the waves curl over my head like a second sky, darker, closer. salt fills my mouth, my nose, my lungs. it tastes like the end of something. it tastes like home.