I have been rocked, cradled
in the reflection of a perfect sky—
which skips across water
I have wriggled into white sand
so fine, it was like dust—
hurled wet handfuls
at squealing, brown-skinned girls
who tried in vain to brush it off.
Their sharp squawks of friendly outrage
mimicked the too-white gulls
swimming through the sky.
I have been maliciously ground
into the hateful rocks of the stormy undersea,
clenched in terror against a blue
I have clawed and fought
and hauled my body from the spray,
shedding water in sheets—
dragged air into aching lungs
while salty blood and salty water
poured down legs that shook,
mingling with sand.