ana (by the seashore)

she spends her time among the sea
shells, running the tips of her fingers through the cracks
imagining the rhythms of those who inhabited them.
they fascinate her, they consume her.

she wants an epiphany. her eureka.
she longs in her collerbone, in the space between skin
and bone. oh, to be an explorer! what is life
if not full of marvels, just out of reach.