Poem: ‘An Electrolysis of Brine’

Science in meter and verse

Illustration of blue waves and land, with the silhouette of a person sitting on the land mass

Masha Foya

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2NaCl(aq) + 2H2O(l) → H2(g) + Cl2(g) + 2NaOH(aq)

I’ve rarely seen the sea so calm—
the weather almost balmy
as though the world knows
wind would blow me apart
tear the bonds already stretched
by atoms straining, seeking
the resistance of your arms
holding me together—
I tell you this—send it as text
across the waves
from Scotland to Norwegian coast
wondering if this is the one
that will weigh the radio waves
between us into wire
powered by the constant battery
of good mornings and good nights
So that on days like this
when we both sit
dangling two feet into briny water
two million feet apart
we might become electrodes—
conductors in the beaker of the North Sea
attracting orchestras of ions
across aeons of ocean
until—
for one electrifying instant—
I feel the tingle of the touch
of electrons from the chlorine
in the salt of the sea that
kissed your feet
tightening me back into shape—
and I am Venus
born from the foam
of the telltale bubbles around me.

Alisz Reed is a writer and science communicator with a background in mathematics. She is currently working on a play about randomness while spending the year volunteering on a historic tall ship sailing around Scandinavia.

More by Alisz Reed
Scientific American Magazine Vol 332 Issue 6This article was originally published with the title “An Electrolysis of Brine” in Scientific American Magazine Vol. 332 No. 6 (), p. 85
doi:10.1038/scientificamerican062025-3Nhod2KC4ZSEdvwLsTAh79