Everything is heightened as if this cold front brought things into perspective. There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach when in the past there would be exhilaration, perhaps it’s all the pills getting me down and interacting in some way that deviates from the norm like a statistical significance. There is the dark and there is the light and sometimes one takes over the other as if to give the other the rest it requires to return more strongly. There can’t be much like whittling away the pieces layers to leave space for the art underneath created by steady hands. At times all is not well and she will be difficult. Terse words should be enough to express the extent of the depths within. Maybe I’m less patient because I don’t feel well and I’m a bit unhealthy or maybe it’s because I’m tired of being the repetitive waves crashing against the shore to soak tiny pieces of sand created artificially. Be dark, unflinching, tense, and done if you need to be. She will be.
Barefoot amidst the movement of lapping, cold waves—a gentle soul walks onward into the ocean. Mangrove branches loop out from the water and marine alluvium soils. Tiny fish grow within the intertidal zone, protected by the plants and disrupted by her calm feet digging into the sand. Hair wild amidst the cool sun rays softly kissing each eye into a deeper caramel hue. The water against her strong ankles as low pools fill and recede into the Earth. Gusts pick up cooling a body flowing in tandem with the ocean waves as the heart connects to the soul of the ocean.