The Beach

 

Hot ceramic sunlight peeled from the skin

like taking off socks. No toe-testing here.

Wading deeper, weight lifted.

Salty sea cider: stinging white mints across the tongue

and piddling hops.

Wander deeper. 

Wade deeper.

 

A yell: something about a ball

brought down to a simmer.

Waxing tide reflects the wrath of God.

(Fifty points for hitting the bullseye.)

Sure-footed feet ‘cause no one likes losing.

You’re only waist-deep;

keep moving.

 

Cool thread tying itself around the chest.

Eagle wings shoving mass back.

Black beneath the feet

an untraceable shadow.

Take a gulp: do you spit or swallow?

 

Mountains in moving currents

all drinkable lead.

No horizon through bouncing hills.

Buoyant debris reduced to nil like a nearsighted scope lens.

Scoffing. Coughing. 

Choking. Groping.

Slowing. Knowing.

Stop.

 

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