By Sarah Muir

Tapping my toe

Lightly onto the water’s surface,

forming halos that swell

and stretch out into oblivion.

Body aglow,

Illuminated by insensitive daylight

Consentless penetration

Masked in warm colors.

Neptune speaks

her voice submerged in watery depths

suffering in sacrificial silence,

No one can hear her scream.

Soundless shrieks.

The ebb and flow of hypnotic tides

manipulated by intrusive sunbeams

surviving with saint-like endurance.

The bruised surface of the water

echoes the pattern on my skin.

Waves crash and roar

out of spite,

out of hatred,

for her inescapable limitations

And yet her wrath will come,

she will rise again

drowning her victims

in mercilessness.