The moisture eats the air. It’s essential.
Bobbing up, bobbing back. Sinking, falling. Elevated for a moment,
spreading in slow motion.
Crash against the stones. Harder than before.
Spray across the wind.
Soak it in. Soak it all in, reach the greatest diameter.
The fatigue sets and no one’s moving anymore.
No one is swaying, no one is watching. They sweat.
The rolls swell and dip without ever growing smaller.
The body looks at itself for the first time.
In a long time.
She doesn’t see her eyes as they water.
She breathes in the salt as she suffocates.