Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.

Poetry

I watched as salty water
Repainted her pink toenails.
Gray sand stuck to them
Like ten fingers intertwined.

In a sea of faces red,
She is the wave above all.
Roaring with power, yet-
Graceful as she moves.

She has no idea her significance
No idea how she washes over
My skin, leaving trace of salt
With every gentle lap.

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