wear the moon like a halo

SUNJATA

the flood

feeling alive while you fight for your life
as you swim back to the beaches

“Who said I was looking for an excuse?” He shoots back – finding it easy to get stuck in this banter, because at least this playful teasing and gentle prodding meant he didn’t have to think of everything else that was falling apart. Here he was afloat in the ocean, buoyed by his partial shift and the fin for a tail, the dorsal fin that juts out along his spine stark and sharp. Her hands travel along his skin, featherlight and gentle against him and given the scar tissue his body suffers, well, he feels it but he also doesn’t.

Suddenly, though, she’s all against him, his hands hooked beneath her knees, smirking lightly up at her. “The swimming or the view?” He asks, raising a dark brow, unable to keep the smirk from his face as he peers up at her, the waves rocking them gently as he directs them with ease from his flipper. One hand rises from being hooked behind her knee to run along her leg, to her side, following along the trail of the ink there that he noticed but didn’t comment on, all while remaining silent to await for her answer.

don't be scared of the tide, just prepare for the ride
as you float, you float, you float