She
1:01 A.M. § June 10, 2006

Playing: The Rent soundtrack - "Will I"

The beach stretches, on and on, long and pale gray-gold, brown-gray, gray against gray with the seething, boiling ocean slamming against it again and again and again. The houses rise and fall, paled by sand and sun and sea, disappearing into that mist, that hazy humid mist that clings to the shoreline and skyline like a child to a mother.

Rising and falling, rising and falling--house to house, wave to wave, boat to boat.

The waves are at once ferocious savage monsters, ripping and tearing at flesh, fins, sand, stone--froth, foam, white against gray. But they are silken too, when they lie broken and curving, gliding toward the shores, lacy dragons snaking and winding.

The mermaids--they dress in the glimmering blue, black, rose-gold or gray, the reflections from the sky above, and in the snowy lace. They whisper--shhhh-shh, shhhhhhhh-shhh, and sing, echoing the cries of the gulls wheeling and swooping in their lonely pale flights above.

But most of all, the mermaids tug--push and pull, push and pull, each time luring a little further out, a little closer, come closer, come closer, as the waves crash over her head. Descend with us--come to us, come to us, come to us. We'll take you, we'll care for you. You'll shed these mortal feet that grow so weary with always wandering, always aching from having so many miles left. We'll give you fins, and your hair will grow long, and your skin grow pale from the deepest, darkest, most comforting depths--you'll wander with us, roam with us, swim with us. You'll never be alone again.

Come with us. Roam with us. The mermaids beckon, and with each wave they draw her further in, further in, just a little more, come to us--and she can feel them, hands cool on her body, already gathering her close. The love of them, the love from them, is sweeter than endless sleep--

She almost goes. She almost closes her eyes and almost lets them take her under. Whispering dreaming gliding falling lacing holding--closer...

Back on the shore, sand clinging to flesh and water swirling around finless feet. She wishes she'd gone with them. She wishes...

...I'm twenty today. This incarnation has been here for two decades. And it hurts.

Shiva § Kali

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Namaste