by Maia

She’s whiter than the beach on which she lays,
Her swimsuit running around her midsection in sunny yellow lines of fabric.
Her hair is blacker than the sky on a starless night, her two-piece bathing suit islands of gold on her body, frailer than a dried pine twig.
Her eyes are lost galaxies, sightless and larger than life, larger than the ocean.
She is drifting in the breeze, becoming smaller and smaller,
melting away from the heat,
Her fingers are fine as strands of hair, spindly little things.
And her nails are hard as steel, pink, and knife-sharp
And she rises from the ground, a giant, taller than the trees
That sway behind her,
And walks away, towel over shoulder.

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