She’s in a small enclave
her cloak loose
leans into the wind
shifting colors of the sunset
through sheer cloth
the ache between hip bones
grows heavy
asking to be grounded
sea water rolls over her toes
and she dives in, sinking deep
to float up until fingers touch sand
laying naked on the shoreline
she is vast
part of the ocean
made by centuries of wolves
bowing to moon
the chill on her skin rises
thicket of roses, thorns pierced
flesh
to bleed
to bleed
Layered Fragments, Becoming Whole 