Absorbing
the density of sand in her fingertips,
she creates the sea within herself.
Waves erode her hardened toes
the stinging quality
rushes up her legs.
She fizzles like a soda pop
when the salt buries itself in
through open pores
freshly shaved.
She refuses to remove her sandals,
her crystal blue towel from her lap.
The sun might lick her gently,
she might like it.
The cracking and smacking
of the ocean trying to break
its barrier of rocks becomes her brain.
She struggles out of this body
this swimsuit,
this shell.
Flecks of dirt
find a home in her face
as young pools of healthy fish
swivel by.
Skinny scales,
purple ones eating reeves,
mildew yellow ones under umbrellas
without rain,
pink ones plump with pink skin
to match.
They all have mates,
schools of loitering mongrels
how she wishes she could pick them off
like garbage,
as they flop around without the sea
but she is the only fish out of water.
She craves children on the beach
to birth them right here,
so they can see she's not alone.
Though her mind is vast as an ocean
it is as overlooked,
just space to fill
between pieces of land.
Adding your comment:
