Aesthetic (For Sarah S.)
She stands silent: staring at the sea. She hates
the hold it has on her. The waves tease
her spine, sending shivers that scathe.
She lost herself here: the water cast
her about, tumbled her body in the chase
to get to the sand. The water lies. It acts
anonymously, anchoring malevolence and teach-
ing brutally. Barely breathing, she steps forward and cheats
water with her toes. Her heart rate quickens, thoughts no longer chaste
and she runs into the waterwall, the force erasing her aches.
Her breath becomes battered, but stronger. The current heats
her soul. She is on fire. Taking a breath, she dives into ash.
Highest Form of Whit 