I sample the sea
I sample the sea for her.
I swirl it around in the glass,
curl it around my mouth,
smack it on my tongue.
The bouquet is briny;
high notes are fish and sand;
aftertaste is cold depths.
I drink the sea for her,
so she won’t have to drink
and she can stay safe as she
looks down from the picture window
of her house lifted high off the ground.
She peers at my small shape
by the water’s edge – sees my feet are wet.
I toast her with the ocean,
lift high the foamy glass,
drain it dry and toss it
into the surf behind me.
She has a glass of golden wine
she raises to her lips,
peers over the rim, but does not drink.
I dive into the ocean for her.
I brave the rip tide, the undertow,
all for her, my clothes drag at me
like mermaids’ hands and slither off.
All she can see now is my naked body
surfacing through the waves
heading away and out to sea.
About the Author: Alice Teeter studied poetry at Eckerd College with Peter Meinke. She graduated with a degree in creative writing/literature. She is a member of Alternate ROOTS, a service organization for artists doing community-based work in the Southeast; a member of the Artist Conference Network, a national coaching community for people doing creative work; and a member of the Atlanta Women’s Poetry Collective. She taught poetry writing at Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia, from 2011 to 2016. With Lesly Fredman, she leads Improvoetry workshops combining theatrical improvisation with poetry writing.
Image Credit: Leontine von Littrow “Rocky Seaside” Public domain image courtesy of Artvee
As It Ought To Be 
