Sure, you would have to look beyond my 5-ton physique,
understand that a washboard stomach is only a dream,
and that I will always be hairless.
I could no longer open jars for you, mow the lawn,
scratch your back, scrub the toilet, pick up the dog poop
give you a thumbs up.
You would have to learn whale-speak,
because though my language skills
would be beyond most other animals on earth,
I could never learn English,
nor would I want to learn that stupid language anyway.
A boat may be in your future.
But I know you are afraid of open waters,
so I would come as close to shore as possible,
to the point where my dorsal fin felt the sun
and blubbery belly scraped along the sand,
so that we could be together.
We would have to endure any prejudices
people have against interracial couples,
after all, I would be half black, half white, but 100% dolphin.
Yes, dolphin. You heard me.
See how this could get complicated?
And I would come with a bad reputation.
People would call me “killer,”
just because I have a robust and varied palate.
In the human world, people are praised for this.
But trust me, I would never eat you, unless you were into it.
We could never sleep side by side again or spoon,
my flipper around your shoulder,
and one slowly falling asleep under a pillow,
because you would drown or I would crush you,
and that can’t be good either way.
And by now you have to be wondering
why then would I want to ever be a killer whale,
when it comes with so many sacrifices and challenges,
when I love you more than any other human has loved another human.
It’s because they a have huge, and I mean gigantic,
I mean possibly the largest,
limbic lobe on earth,
the part of their magnificent brain
capable of more emotions than humans.
I want to have their far superior cellular architecture
and plethora of spindle cells that fill up
with so much affection and passion,
just so I can feel
what it is like
to love you
than what is humanly