Sea-ing. 

​We walked on the waters, we watched the white sand embrace the fury of the blue aqua, amazed, smiling foolishly, becoming the children we once were.

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An Unwelcome Season.

I rule the still waters. Gliding on the cold thin liquid, I feel weightless. Energy squeals in my head. I feel wings growing out my shoulder blades. But they’re heavy. The weight breaks the water. I plunge through the cracks, down into the glittering sand. The clean, sharp, shining glass pieces await me. I wish I could swim away. But my wings are dragging me down. Winter is here.