ormond beach, fl
the restlessness of ocean wind embodies this room, leaks in like a vapour through spanish-style blinds. when i walk out of this cottage tomorrow morning at 6am for the last time there will be fresh salt on car windows, new seaspraysand stuck on tires, blown out for miles across padded beaches and (unnecessary!) swimming pools until reaching parking lots. these garnishes will free themselves along route 95 and plate other food. and i wonder if there are human ashes among this salt that have been sprinkled out of urns. in my many experiences of riding waves and sweeping inside heavy undercurrents, i have swallowed the human water of urine and spit and sweat, drank in seaweed flavours, mingled with sharks and squid, refined and tainted the cup with my own presence. dust to dust, i will release loved ones along highway america and they will keep loving and traveling on.
today i collected shells in a severe thunderstorm without noticing that the sky had darkened above me, my back turned away from the ocean and tall towers of rolling whitecaps crashing into the bends of my knees with speed and precision. high tides rising over ankles and sandcastles and instead of going inside i chase seashells that have recently split open; these are shells i could've sworn were recently foreclosed but now new visitors vibrate within them and i am injected into this bloodstream, even if i am merely a surgeon's sterile, foreign tool that cannot stay inside forever, i am indeed a part. i will be rejected soon, for which i am glad, as there are many beautiful things to return to that have only been recognized with absence. i have never held absence so tangibly before.
today i collected shells in a severe thunderstorm without noticing that the sky had darkened above me, my back turned away from the ocean and tall towers of rolling whitecaps crashing into the bends of my knees with speed and precision. high tides rising over ankles and sandcastles and instead of going inside i chase seashells that have recently split open; these are shells i could've sworn were recently foreclosed but now new visitors vibrate within them and i am injected into this bloodstream, even if i am merely a surgeon's sterile, foreign tool that cannot stay inside forever, i am indeed a part. i will be rejected soon, for which i am glad, as there are many beautiful things to return to that have only been recognized with absence. i have never held absence so tangibly before.