by Sophia V., 18
Toes and fingers envelope the sand.
The powder white makes a pillow
for the head and the arch of the back.
The seashells litter golden locks,
as I doze to the night sky.
A lullaby from these stars
who twinkle in synchronized step
and illuminate the dueling waves of the sea.
These stars bore a shine into my reflective eye
yet stage a play of joyous memory,
for by the time I gift them
my gracious glance
they have already perished.
The starlight does not hurry to reach me,
despite these stars’ dismay.
With time passed quietly,
these stars perish into something less
emblazoned,
dull as the darkened night.
I lie along the water’s edge
to observe this harsh fate’s unfolding
and question to myself,
will we, too, collapse
before our light reveals?
St. Petersburg, Florida
Bridge Ink 