Salty Skin

Salty Skin

I could sit here for hours on end. I do not want to lose the present bliss of this salty skin. Nothing else matters in the intermissions between the unstoppable powers crashing into  the cold ebony rock below me. Not my past nor what’s to come; solely this moment, at this time, in this place, is all that consumes me. I feel the push of the same energy grace my flushed cheeks and whip ripples through my jacket. The raw salt burns past my nostrils and curls my waving hair. The winds tear my eyes and dry my lips. My mind is free, quiet, and empty. Never have I felt so alive, so clear, so content. Enormous waves roll for miles – the whites of their caps and froth left in their memory come and go as I blink. The persistent roar finds rhythm within my ribcage. The beauty clouds any logical danger of the raging sea, as I feel my belonging grow. The malicious temptation to dive into the oblivion of the whirlpool below becomes harder to resist. This could be it. Heart full, conscious clear… but my feet remain grounded. I close my eyes long enough to leave my body and trust the leap of faith, yet returning to my physicality before fate sweeps me out of sanity. Upon the following exhale, I open my eyes to the same reality I left. I feel my dimples dig into my cheeks. Tears run into the small divots and it’s hard to tell if it’s from the wind or within. I’m ok here with this reality. Atop this cliff, soaking the salty spray of the sea into my skin.

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All my heart,

Chlo

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