• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 12
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The tideline is etched in wet,
deep as the sea can see,
dragging in what sand it can,
laying it all on the beach.
She sits tempting,
teasing out what water allows–
slow glowing, going
in and out with the breath
of the water, waiting to be taken–
the space pulls, the waves draw–
shaken, to recede from herself.