They sat, locked fingers across their knees,
curled against their chest. The sand uncomfortable-
gritty in their teeth, irritating their scalp,
in their pants; little red ants climbing on their bare
skin. Shells lie broken, a hazard, they've been told.

There is something beautiful about the way
the sea comes back to kiss the shoreline,
taking things but also leaving little surprises
behind- some gifts returned like a spoilt child
or some deity unhappy with the offered selection,
and some new unopened treasures brough in from
cousins abroad, as if an angry mother still
serving food to misbehaving children.

i prefer the noise of river flowing
there's this overall gush you can
hear and some weird sort of continuity
you really don't get when you sit
beside the sea so when i think of my
favorite water sounds i like thinking
of the river and sometimes when i am
in the shower i like to close my eyes
pretend i am in the middle of this
great river which is engulfing me
in its tide and current but i am
strong and big enough to stay steady
at the center and in this place i
am no one but the person in the middle
of this river and this person has
no cares of who is waiting at the banks
and who is not because this person
is so strong and can hold themselves
against this magnitude this volume
of water and i sometimes change the
temperature of the shower from
hot to cold so i can make it more
realistic in my mind and i imagine
myself to be big and invulnerable
dignified and respected with many
scars from battles won with a strong
back that does not hurt as much as
mine does and i sometimes wonder
what i would need to be and do to
become as stately as i want to be
in my mind i am that person in the
river untethered but firmly rooted
knowing that they are exactly where
they need to be because when needed
the river erodes this person's foothold
and then rather than panicking this
person allows themselves to be carried
by this great mighty river because
now they know this place is no longer
theirs to be so they are moved at the
will of the river and themselves to
another new place where they will again
firmly root themself until the next
cycle.
i wish i knew to move myself when
my time was up. but i don't.

i thought of the waves in the shore
dreamt of nights passed
wished the water was as clear as they
showed in those tv shows
one by one faces came to mind
interactions analyzed one by one

i broke it all down without meaning to
i did not care but my mind worked
without letting me breathe in
it showed me critical commentary
on the last time i stepped outside
and i felt the gnash of self
realization mixed in with profound
absurdity

my hand moving ridiculous
mouth moving ridiculous
words i was saying ridiculous
work i was doing ridiculous

i could not stop it
so i stared at my toes
trying to drown my thoughts out
with the waves that
crashed with a loudness
inconvenient plastic sticking on my feet
i find i need to move