I met him under the sea—knocked unconscious by powerful waves. He swam me to shore.
He had a goatee thick like seaweed, long rope-like dreads, skin glistening like sand under the hot sun.
He said he was divorced, never considered finding love in a land walker until his youngest daughter married one.
He proposed with a conch shell. I brought it to my ear, and his voice drew me out to the ocean like the tide.
Not until I dipped my head underwater and never resurfaced.
© Nortina Simmons