There was a child, who treaded shorelines,
Feet sinking into sand so fine.
But now she watches the sun bleed into the ocean,
Hand clenched to the trigger of an invisible gun.
Lifting a glass for another drink
The mind desperately fumbles to link
Two places on opposite ends of the globe.
In one it was under waves she dove,
The other mere loneliness.
Yet in drowning there is no caress,
Only dark denial of hands that refuse to touch
The corals, the fish, the never-ending rush.
Remaining instead in apple-like memories,
Tarnished now by stains from strawberries.
No longer a child, red in the glass,
Ignored is her plea to return to the past.
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