Whispers
I feel relieved today. Perhaps, the waves that are crashing on the seashore look at me with comfort and isolation as I sit here with my untied shoes and pale legs in withering epiphanies of what could have been a better way to come at the beach today. Perhaps my backpack could have stayed home, perhaps my hair could have flown slightly in the other direction. Perhaps the waves could have erased the little sand name I wrote but it didn’t. Maybe it realized the necessity of fragile validation for me and stepped away. As the waves crash in themselves with moon’s dangling effect terming brevity a scoundrel for its existence somewhere among false lowlands in the middle of nowhere, a brush of fresh air hurries my eyes to the portrait of strangers enjoying the beachy light as it is while I imagine a hummingbird resting across my arm and smiling at me. The silence of the sound of waves cools the lack of feeling I feel everyday. Maybe that is why I feel like a liar whenever I even use the ...