The Sweetest Bath

“She’d finally done it.

Racing down the salty steps,
calloused feet banging on mould-ridden wood,
as the wind filled her hair and made each strand flow
as much as the waves in front of her did,

The sun just beginning to kiss the horizon,
as much as it would like to do the same to her
good soul

It’s loving red rays spreading across her skin like
butter brought to a boil,
only to be cooled by her smile to a
lukewarm cinnamon latté
that enveloped her from head to toe
and was almost as fragrant as her
pure heart

The smell of the ocean would normally sting the insides of noses 
like a battalion of ruthless sea soldiers paving their way of escape from the dark depths
with sharp spears and sharper knives
but not with her
and not with her tiny nose

She held the wind with her bare hands
and let it lift her up
and up
and up
and up
and let her go from a great height
while the sun would dip it’s eyes beneath the horizon, anxious about seeing whether or not it was too great

But it was of no concern,
for the good waves would catch her and cradle her tiny frame
like a million hands made from warm honey
handling her like the beautiful
yet easily broken thing 
that she was,

and they’d cradle her back and forth,


and forth,

and back again,

until she got dizzy with the movements of the endless hands,
and the sweet warmth of the sleeping sun,
and the gentle touch of the whistling wind,

and she’d be enveloped in the warm honey she’d come out of,
and became as sweet as it herself
if not sweeter,

and it would drip off her onto the velvet coast,

pitter patter by

pitter patter

to which the few fortunate grains of sand that were dripped onto would jump with joy,
filled with sheer awe,
euphorically bewildered at what they had done to deserve such a privilege

And that was her life after that
after the jump
after it all

And she’d continue dripping the honey everywhere she went,
smiling at herself as the sun waved goodbye,
and the waves sang farewell,

as she continued to pitter patter along the velvet forevermore,
her honey dripping and dripping endlessly,
enchanting those who were,

by some fortuitous turn of fate,

lucky enough to taste it.”







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