Ocean I

The sound of the ocean drowns out the passing cars on the road as I slowly make my way through the sand towards the water. Each step is a laborious event as the sand crumbles beneath my feet, pushing me forward. As I move closer the spray of the water sticks to my face and I can taste the salt as it chaps my lips. The dark blue of the sky collides with the distant horizon of the black ocean and the dark void that emerges between the two seems endless. I can feel myself drawn to it. The colorless space seems to be where the salt and the sting and the cold is emanating from. As the moon moves out from behind the clouds, the water and the sky seem to seperate and the void fades away, creating an empty distinction. The pale yellow light of the full moon surrounds me.
I can remember, now, the sound of her voice. At first all I had were the curves of her body, constrained by the white dress pushed tight against her dark skin. But now I can hear her. "Let's go out tonight," she offers. I turn to her and smile, "Where would we go?" She stands up and waves her arms, playing the role of tour guide. "There is a cute little bistro on 53rd street, locals practically have their mail delivered there they spend so much time there." She giggles and falls back down into my welcoming arms. I scan her smile and the turn of her lips draw my eyes to hers. Their dark brown is so warm. "If it's that popular, we should probably make a reservation," I muse. Her mouth nears mine as she answers, "Or I guess we could just stay in..." I can remember, now, how perfectly the shape of her lips met mine.
For a minute the spit of the ocean is hers, our embrace kept together by the crashing water. The curves of the current, her body, the hiss of the waves, her laughter. She lures me towards her, the void seduces me. I'm in her arms as she pulls me out towards the horizon. The ebb of the water surrounds me and splits across my legs. I push back and feel the dark surface of the ocean swim through me. She hisses and shouts in delight as I work through her. The give and take makes us one, and for a minute our opposite forces hold us in a perfect equilibrium. The depth sits still for just a second until she cannot handle it and the riptide pulls hard at my waist. I swim through and away and I can feel her recoil from me. What I mistake for embarrassment I quickly realize is contempt. The crests of her waves grow up and up as she breathes heavier. Her body twists and turns around my legs and torso and I give in. She sweeps me in, spits me out, and turns me over. I lash against her, but it only makes her work harder as I fight meaninglessly. I exhale and give in, my limp body runs through her hands until I float up towards the yellow moonlight at the surface.
Her manifesto hung in the air between us and made a clean break. She's tired of this, worn out of that, sick of whatever. Even now it free-floats through me from time to time, pushing me down and out of her one-bedroom. The sensation of her cool skin has been reduced to the fragile surface tension of the water. The whole affair is too pathetic, too depressing to admit and I lay down on the sand ashamed of her temptation. Of her seduction and of her brashness. I can feel the pit opening and pulling me down and down and down towards the grey, away from the yellow, apart from the blue, out of the black. The crashing of the waves on the shore shoots through me and leaves nothing but the thought of the bistro and the brown of her eyes keeping me on the ground. I pull myself up as the ocean crashes, and roars, and rolls her away from me.