Honolulu, O'ahu

The ocean makes you brave. The way your toes grasp at the sand and your arms reach out into nothing to catch you. Floating. Grains get in where they shouldn’t go, like you, in the wave, feeling free.

I skinned my knees when the water retreated. The coral wasn’t soft and it sliced my thin skin. But I needed it, the reminder of the moon changing the tide. There are forces bigger than me. They could kill me.

Yet, I still find the land.


Budapest, Hungary

The Chorus of Rome in the Morning