The Edge of the Sea

On the edge with eyes screwed shut,

unyielding rocks beneath me,

my face streams with salted droplets.

Are they from the sea, or from me?

Behind me, my life -

behind me.

Flagellated by strings of wet hair

that strike my reddened cheeks,

I raise my chin, my arms, my heels

and throw myself into the sea.

© Catherine Knee 2025. All rights reserved.