I am where you came from. When you look at me, you are looking at your past and your future rising to get you.

Here I am. Here you have my salty teeth. My endless kiss goodnight. Here you have: Your big unknown. Call me ocean, all you want. We both know better, and for one: I am no liar. I am where you came from; your primordial soup, your point of departure, the beginning of time. When you look at me, you are looking at your past and your future rising to get you. You are paging through the family album, and there I am: Your ancestral mother. The very space that nursed the specimen that would become you. Prepare for a wet and salty hug; I am getting up from my chair to kiss you.

It is all for love. It was always just for love, but not just for the love of you. Matter meets time and things start growing. I spent aeons longing for movements down below. A current here, a sparkle there, and you have no idea how small you were when you finally fluttered. My abyss holds many mysteries, but do not flatter yourself. I created many enigmas before you. I was a great botanist. I made anemones, kelps, weeds, corals and algae. And I blew life into jellyfish, starfish, any kind of fish, even the ones that you would later pray upon, but there you were, finally. Tailfin, gills and all. Swimming blind and not too smart in your prebiotic broth. Your little skeleton resembling that of a shrimp. Lucky you that Earth was still barren. Imagine the beings that would have considered you a tasty first course. White wine, Friday night, your fragile little self, trying to escape a plate full of dill at a candlelit supper.