“The Ocean That Forgot My Name”

By Bilal Salman Ahmad

The sea remembers every stone it swallows,

yet it forgets me.

I carve your name into the sand,

but by morning, even the shoreline denies us.

How strange, to love someone

and find the ocean more faithful than they are.

The moon whispers across the tide,

pulling me forward,

but when I reach,

my hands close on emptiness.

Salt burns my lips;

I taste grief as if it were wine.

I have learned that longing

is a body holding its breath forever,

waiting for the wave that never returns.

I have learned that silence

is heavier than drowning —

it drags you down,

stone by stone, memory by memory.

And still I stand here,

ankles torn raw by the current,

asking the water why it retreats,

why every touch of love

ends with retreat.

So I offer myself to the sea —

let it take me,

let it carve me into its belly,

because even erasure by tide

feels kinder

than being forgotten by you.

By Bilal Salman Ahmad