there is something about the way the sea looks this sunrise that makes me want to be loud. the waters have receded like a failing army and the exposed sand is sticky like glutinous rice. there is a tidal wave of rage rising in me and it has nowhere to go so i want it to go into the ocean. why won't you scream, i ask, where are your storms, i want to see them tear the trees and the tents and the benches and the paths apart. i sneer at the culling complacency of reflected blue and i want it to snarl back. i want a tsunami, i want a death toll taller than these gallows of mine. there is a hurricane on the tip of my tongue and it tastes like salt and the bitterness of pesticide and i am filled with a plague. the pestilence in me rises and rises and rises and i am drowning in a mouth.
i want a storm, i want to be filled by the ocean and be pulled apart by the currents. i want to be thrown like a lover against the bedrock; let me be embraced by skeletal sailors. i would be bloody and beautiful on the outcroppings, strewn like a broken pearl necklace. i want the jagged teeth of great white sharks like hickeys on my skin. i want the plunge, i want the breathlessness, i want to bleed into the deep and let the salt cleanse the gulf of my wounds.
— when you soak an open wound in the ocean sometimes it heals and sometimes it develops into an infection by kyouka | @horationed
