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My open hands glide along the rhythmic crashing of the waves. Lacing my fingers through sea foam that forms while they curl and collapse. Trying to bear the motion in my hands. Attempting to collect the crystal blue hue. Watching it slip between my fingers, returning to the gurgling sea foam, retreating back out to repeat itself.
Resisting, trying not to let myself further. But the sand embeds itself between my toes, tugging my feet under the soft sediment. The pippies residing in the sand tease my name. I begin to long for the place residing beneath the great magnitude of blue. Compelling my frail body forward. First, I step slowly, then I begin my sprint. Running till I find myself looking up at rippling sun light. The warping light caresses my cheek, entering my blue eyes. Looking backward, I can no longer see the shore I ran from.
I laid myself upon the sand next to the small fishes and hiding crustaceans. Closed my eyes to stop the stinging. To listen to the sound of the sea floor and to the rebellion of my body against the cold of the deeper sea. Easing the burning within my lungs.
Laying, resisting the warning of my body, till I belonged to the salt water and the ocean’s gods.
My organs began to swell. Sulking with salt and water. Wallowing inside of me. Crabs committing procedural incisions against the soft flesh below my rib cage. Allowing them to crawl into the warmth of my insides. The blood escaping the body in swirling red ribbons. Allowing the fish to eat the skin from the flesh, the flesh from the bone. Drinking up the bloodied water. The octopus and eels breaking through the mass feast, breaking down the nutrients in my liver, kidneys and spleen. Forgotten, laying with the sea urchins and sea anemones.
Written by Ariel Wilson
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