the ocean breathes salty
I miss the sand sticking roughly on my skin. And the salty surf washing over me. Dripping softly onto my shoulders from the tips of my hair. The feeling of the sun on your neck and back. It's going home. Oh, to speak of evolution; To know that you are derived from this ocean, to which people dispose of their unwanted. Poisoning it. And of the briny ocean mist, spraying gently on your face. Refreshing like a good night's sleep. I have yet to have a good night sleep. It feels like it's been centuries. Constantly awaking at the sounds of beeps, hums, and of the blinking lights. I would welcome the setting sun, with it's cotton candy swirl around it. It is the time of day when night and day meet in a gentle kiss. Of old men on the beach, stroking the strings, and singing of their homes, family, lovers, friends.