Spilling Over
Playing. Creating. Just. For. Fun.
December 8, 2022
Her laugh is like a roar as her foam wraps about my legs and spills over my feet. She reaches down and dashes me in salt. I wouldn’t be much tastier to her palate without it. I hear the clinking in the background burbling and blurry. Crabs crankle across the rocks deep inside her womb. There are swishes and wishes dancing upon the sunlight gloom.
Drowning, I come alive.
