Underwater light falls like a feather; the sun-rays drip and spill all around.
The sun’s turning orange and crimson, burning the sky with the last of its light, before slowly fading to the infinite night.
She is white like porcelain with green/blue/purple eyelids. She has fallen asleep, naked on the sand.
We’ve been running all day. Underneath the sea-waters.
It’s alright, she said. You can breathe. We are mermaids. We can reach farther and farther, with figures ever-stretching, ever-reaching and minds ever-wondering, ever-searching.
Just breathe.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Now she’s lying next to red poppies and golden gravel. I kiss her lips and pay her in sea-shells and summer berries. I have to leave before she wakes up and swallows me whole, with her red-coral-hands and carnivorous starfish eyes.
