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crossing over and back again |
| White sand curls in tufts, moving into the waves, clearing the blue from the foam. Ashen blonde hair fans in the water like the peacock's feathers. White, blue blonde strands blend on the trough. Ripples run over the pale skin, but closed eyes are blind to the figure above - watching. Above, I watch the water running through and over my small body below. Filling my lungs and eyes and ears with cool, salty water killing the yet-fresh cells. Not content in my outer self, I lower back into the crest bending again into the hardened form of my frame. And the blue eyes open to blue water. The blonde head shakes itself free of white sand. And the now cold, salty body runs to shore hitting the sand, Feeling the reality of it and wondering at the frailness of her fingers. - Kimberly Eileen Phillips |