The Girl Who Drank by the Sea
Salt water stung
on the way
down;
she raised cupped palms to
waiting lips– fingertips
turned like ripened plums,
reckless flesh rippled
by salt and
s o r r o w
and sun.
The Girl who drank the sea
b e c o m e s
The Woman who
swallows
before she speaks;
who squints when
she looks up,
who shields herself with thick,
time-freckled skin,
waits for low tide,
for nightfall, to count
s t a r s
as they crash–
who choses carefully
for which comets
she will open
her mouth
but still smiles
knowing they will burn
on the way
down.
Inspiration:
“A certain light was beginning to dawn within her – the light which, showing the way, forbids it.” Kate Chopin, The Awakening (1899)