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Rated: 13+ · Other · Emotional · #2031396
The sole tragic manner in which true peace and freedom can be achieved.
White Beach


Some who saw her

Or say they did

Recall the brisk white of her dress

The sun seemed to make it

Catch fire

As she walked alone

Into the frothing waves


And I never saw it

But I bet I can tell you what it was like

All the same


Feeling the white fire on her skin

Arms legs stomach

Shiver at the touch of the saltwater

Higher higher


I bet she looked at the blue overhead

And thought of the years

Falling away now

It had somehow come to this


I bet all she wanted was freedom

Freedom to be as she was

To be


And there she had it

As she slipped that hot white

Dress

All the way

Up and over

And let the waves carry it

Far away


She probably started hearing the voices then

From the beach

The chatter

Human seagulls


She must have smiled then

Ever so slightly

Every one of them like a child

In her mind


Those who saw her say she threw her hands up

So dramatic of her

Two stark little limbs

Of a dying tree


Then sank

I bet her feet kicked

Slowly in the sandy eternity

I bet the first fill in her lungs

Was a cleansing flame

Salty, hot, delicious

As she fell in slow motion


Reaching reaching for something

No one sure what

As she gripped the violent dancing water

But I bet you she smiled

As she floated up like a flower

To be found by the horrified little beach-goers

With their empty mouths agape

Black holes echoing why why why





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