The Ocean
In a former life I must have lived seaside. I know this because I dream of living by the ocean, a slight effervescent mist kissing my skin. The ocean is alive and powerful, always pushing and pulling, forward and backward, constantly pressing out the shores that will never quite contain it. The ocean muffles sound, creating a quiet utopia, a place to connect with myself. In the ocean I get a brief glimpse of all the answers.
I am afraid of the ocean as I walk into it, with the dark forms lurking underneath the surface. It sucks me in and spits me out with a driving pulse, exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. I stamp my feet on the shore and watch the print slowly melt into the hungry water, and lay by the side of my favorite place to be, watching the beautiful blue-grey curl into white puffs.
