She’s not a monster.

She feeds me, though she also feeds on my kind.

When she leaves, I escape my watery cage and expand my limbs.

I sit on her balcony.

The sunlight warms my scaled skin.

I gossip with the pigeons. We laugh.

At dusk, I splash back home.

^{Join our WhatsApp Community for updates on new posts!}

^{Photo by Artur Aleksanian on Unsplash}