Jellyfish
They glow like Chinese lanterns and move like they’re encapsulated in a tank-sized lava lamp. The jelly fish at the aquarium pulsate in technicolors and leave us mesmerized. Maybe it was the pot we smoked before we watched, but their languid movements and translucent complexions made our eyes grow wide in amazement. How something so beautiful and quiet, could come from somewhere hidden far beneath our reach in the depths of the ocean. A treasure tucked away from us.
“This is amazing,” you said underneath your breath. I turn away from the tank, and try to make eye contact with you, but all I get is the side of your face. The glow of the jellyfish reflecting in your eyes like fireworks, they appear as quickly as they disappear.
I turn back and stare alongside you. Time escapes us. We walk out and the sun is setting. The sky is saturated in lush violets and rose hues. I try to make eye contact with you again. This time you respond with your heavy set lashes and brown eyes. I move myself closer. I ask you about the jellyfish again, and you brush my cheek with your lips as you make way to my right ear.
“Let’s go look for more. I know where to find them,” you suggest. It was like a trick you had up your sleeve, just waiting for the perfect moment to reveal it.
You take my hand and I’m hesitant to partake in this quest. My feet stumble over each other as you quicken your pace. I watch the sun recede in the distance and let the darkness and streetlamps guide us.
We make it to the lake. I know you’re not from here, but I thought you’d be smart enough to know that jellyfish don’t live in lakes. I try to explain this to you, but you’re already digging your bare feet into wet sand, you're rolling up your jeans, and unbuttoning your shirt.
“Stop! Stop!” I cry.
You start laughing, seeing the look of distress in my face, you laugh even harder. Is this some joke, I think. Am I being fooled around with?
You take my hand again, but this time I let go. I wait for you to give me an explanation for your insanity. You respond with a kiss. It’s a chapped lipped open mouthed kiss that lasts for two harsh wind gusts. I look at the lake, the small rolling waves that softly crash at our feet.
You point out in the distance and I see shimmers of moonlight dancing on the surface, their movements as languid as the jellyfish, their glow, deprived of color but nonetheless still bright, and I see the jellyfish he sees. I feel the wonder and awe standing at the edge of a giant lake, looking into the unknown, and feeling that there’s something bigger than us out there, something mysterious and beautiful beneath the lake, at the other side of it, and far up high above it.
“This is amazing,” you said underneath your breath. I turn away from the tank, and try to make eye contact with you, but all I get is the side of your face. The glow of the jellyfish reflecting in your eyes like fireworks, they appear as quickly as they disappear.
I turn back and stare alongside you. Time escapes us. We walk out and the sun is setting. The sky is saturated in lush violets and rose hues. I try to make eye contact with you again. This time you respond with your heavy set lashes and brown eyes. I move myself closer. I ask you about the jellyfish again, and you brush my cheek with your lips as you make way to my right ear.
“Let’s go look for more. I know where to find them,” you suggest. It was like a trick you had up your sleeve, just waiting for the perfect moment to reveal it.
You take my hand and I’m hesitant to partake in this quest. My feet stumble over each other as you quicken your pace. I watch the sun recede in the distance and let the darkness and streetlamps guide us.
We make it to the lake. I know you’re not from here, but I thought you’d be smart enough to know that jellyfish don’t live in lakes. I try to explain this to you, but you’re already digging your bare feet into wet sand, you're rolling up your jeans, and unbuttoning your shirt.
“Stop! Stop!” I cry.
You start laughing, seeing the look of distress in my face, you laugh even harder. Is this some joke, I think. Am I being fooled around with?
You take my hand again, but this time I let go. I wait for you to give me an explanation for your insanity. You respond with a kiss. It’s a chapped lipped open mouthed kiss that lasts for two harsh wind gusts. I look at the lake, the small rolling waves that softly crash at our feet.
You point out in the distance and I see shimmers of moonlight dancing on the surface, their movements as languid as the jellyfish, their glow, deprived of color but nonetheless still bright, and I see the jellyfish he sees. I feel the wonder and awe standing at the edge of a giant lake, looking into the unknown, and feeling that there’s something bigger than us out there, something mysterious and beautiful beneath the lake, at the other side of it, and far up high above it.
__________
hanna guerrero is a journalist and writer in chicago. find her fiction and poetry on her personal blog, musingswithhanna.wordpress.com