Her arms folded while she danced
Around the sand covered glass sea floor
Driving away the fish bones and sediment
Ripples repelled off of her body
She gasped, looked into a mirror and fell quickly
She saw only herself that time.
Her dampened lit cigarette has become tired and lonely
Her mouth only moves to allow swallows of milky air through briny gums
Justice turns its back
Hues of voices, a vocal avalanche, taking her briskly by the ankles and toes
The grasp of clammy hands and starfish fingers hold her gently; unwillingly
Fear follows and hides away around the corner of the ocean
She moves fiercely.
Creating wake and restless sleep.
The oysters stir in their shells as she passes by.