by L.A Speedwing
She walks on the asphalt. Hard, hot, black.
Toward the blond sand. Grainy. Soft. Lukewarm. Malleable.
It is better.
Towards the sea. Blue. Fluid. Cool.
People still stares.
She is naked after all.
She enters his realm.
He is lifting her up at long last.
He surrounds her. Caresses her. Every inch of her body. Then holds her still just for a moment.
A low groan comes from his throat.
Then he pushes her away.
Then pulls her in.
Come, he begs. Are you with me YET?
She breathes in. Her pores, her eyes, her lungs slowly fill with the fluid.
Her body exults. Her chest begins to expand. The fog in her mind clears.
She explodes outward.
I am now.
The Deep once more.
(L.A Speedwing runs a blog where she writes about Arts to provide a relief to her overheated brain otherwise busy writing a fantasy novel for young adults. The book is altogether proving to be stubborn and won’t finish itself. Still, she is determined to win this battle.)