candescent sea

The candescent sea collapses against the small curves of her body. Her body that hangs like a canopy on the sensuous shore of throbbing solitude. She remains there, visibly and audibly, as if she were one long sigh. No part of her shows an inclination to move. Except for her fingers that press deeper into the coating of the beach. She seems undisturbed. She seems as though her only wish is to hold on—to stay there—on the border where the sea meets the shore and falls desperately on to the body of the beach. She closes her eyelids, like a petal that drops from the bud that held it alive and open, as the wave ventures home and falls into a dark drape around her sublime skin. The silken sea like a ribbon rippling to the rhythms of the fleeting birds who sing their poetics to the wind who is moving too fast, to stop and reply.