Here there was a lagoon
that we think was beautiful
we think was fresh.
We wish we could remember the lagoon
like a little garden of tiny fish
where the bigger ones
got better
at eating the rest.
Here there was a lagoon
and when the water was still
there was a river
that shaped these rocks round
before they became stray shots
of an abandoned ripple on the desert.

And before
before it was the bottom of the sea
and the whales used to mate right here
and not further south where we hear their melancholic wails
it was near this piece of ocean bed
where their whale ancestors dealt out the sea
as if they were gambling.

Here is the desert
and here was the sea
and between them
a lagoon we’d like to remember as fresh
if we could remember.
If we could remember that this peninsula
that parts in the continent
it was first split by a whimsical metal corpse
then by the ancient wound of the earth.
If we could remember
that this piece of land
emerged from the waters
with us
with our stone heart
our dirt heart
our jungle heart.
If we could remember that when this desert we went through
emerged from the waters
it emerged like the great beasts
fangs dripping
hungry
unaware
tormented, thinking it was
the last beast to emerge from the waters.