Soaking our feet and feeling the warm sand.
Sometimes a cold black one.
It's not only the shore making us what we are.
It's a big deep place.
All the monsters and stories stored there.
Waiting for the lonely times, for the sunset, when everybody packs their things up and moves on to their own seas.
A big deep place shaping our sharp sides, turning them out to softer and rounded pieces, but sometimes...sharper.
A space where we navigate by ourselves watching the navy blue water, this time hoping the water won't reach our necks again.
Taking our boat once again to the shore soaking our feet and feeling the sand sometimes warm, sometimes a cold black one