Never answer a sea monster

when she asks what you want.

Never answer a mami wata*, my sister warns. We are perched at the edge of daylight, on the rough red rocks where young men wash motorcycles. We keep her small child from lollipops and strangers, wind and cliff edges. We talk, of course, of sea monsters.

Mami wata ask what you want. It is the most dangerous question. My sister’s heart is as open as a plou…