As I stroll down the sanded beach gently caressing my roughened skin.

Washed among the grains are stones a-strange no different than pimples, imperfects and other details.

Treasure and drift wood sprinkled around are carved as the marks of a creative mind.

Beauty beach a common strand incredibly human or plain raw land.

Seashells scattered delicate Sea flowers represent the feminine of a pastoral ground.

So as I stroll down a sanded environ memories reflect my lover found.

It is not a sign of weakness to hold in the weight of rock that is the mine collapsing inside your throat. Your heart is jumping out of its rib-shaped cave more often than not. The consequence of freedom isn't always pretty. Your body is a protest, a body of water, gaining momentum. Your body is

not mine: make the world 

uphold this.

Ankles toes and belly button

knees and elbows

shoulder blades

and everything else

in stock, they are not allowed

to take. You keep a tight inventory,

so next time people come around telling you about your body, don't hold back. Your body is evidence. Hold it up against the light until they are obligated to shut up.