She walks by the beach,
Two steps forward one step back,
Three steps to the front,
Softness beneath the feet, softness of a soft-shell crab.
Knees to the ground,
Feeling the gritty wet sand
while the sea feels the hem of her long skirt,
Translucent, raw, real,
Of bits of shell left behind,
Of color spots of a new growing shell,
Exposing all the rawness of an in between
that is not here but getting there.
Touch and it was cold,
But inside glimmers of true hope,
A beating heart encased within what vulnerable skin,
One large whoosh and it rides the waves,
A place that feels like belonging.
She walked by the beach,
Two steps forward one step backwards.
Each step after, feels like hope.
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