Seafood Jade~

I have a friend named Jade.
We're pretty close, me and Jade.
Known them since childhood, you know.

Well, one day, hanging out in town,
we had lost our way and were parched,
had for Pınar in our pockets no harç.
Then Jade, she decided to share a secret.

And so he took my hand and pulled me by the sea,
by the Marmara Sea.
This is not metaphorical slang, you know,
I mean, that's where we lived, you know.

We ran and ran and settled down at this dock where no people were found.
On the edge of the planks, Jade had sewn a ladder from nets,
and we climbed down, down into the space between sea and shore,

where the water was wet but we could still walk.
There we took a stop on an old submarine tank and talked, all the while Jade getting me ready to know their big secret.

Soaking in time,
my curiosity impending

to find what it was all about.

And Jade, he took a halt and shrieked suddenly,

"AREN'T YOU THIRSTY?"

And so Jade, she said the water's edible, you know,

kneeled down beyond his bosom and took a handful of water—

"sip it, Azra."

And you probably think that by now I was shocked, or just plain creeped out,
but no, I was hoping of something more or less the like,

because Jade had the crazy eyes like me,
I just knew she ate chalk.

And he proceeded in serving me oysters and starfish,

they were all congregated by her side, served by servant seals holding sand-made copperware.

To me in that state of parch, handfuls of aqua would not suffice, I dove down beyond my bosom and gulped in water by the double.

Pulled myself back up by the ladder on the tank, settled adjacent to Jade, and bit the legs of sea stars,
gulped down the appendages one, by one.

And Jade, he did not regurgitate in their regeneration.

There we sat and indulged,
in their twinkling collection of sea-made darts.