salt wind (for J.S.) turning towards the smoky dusk, she puts down her basket and steps deeper into the foam curling at her feet. mica slivers in the felty jetty moss wink in the moonlight like tiny mirrors across the limey stone. a smooth-sweet wind clears thoughts from her hands, silencing her hunger and feeding hopeful truth. lifting her arms high, gasping in tiny breathfuls of star, she explodes the fear, pushing it open, pulling it apart, dissolving it softly. she folds onto the velvet sand, curling close to the crabs, holding waves in her palms, collapsing all expectation. the ocean tastes glorious. she is full.