The Water Front

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
She was just a thirteen year old girl...

Submitted: January 30, 2011

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Submitted: January 30, 2011

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A young girl with skin white as ivory and hair that flowed like liquid ebony. She stood by the water and let the bubble dress float on the surface of the crystal blue calm. Her perfectly curved nails skimming the water, creating little swirled circles and streams. Her back arched when she floated up with the wave. Hands gently floating on the top of each. Sitting on a rock. A black rock that was stuck with starfish and barnicales. She stretched her neck to view the dolphins on the horizen. And dangling her feet in the water by the fish. Scales that reflected blue, pink, orange, green and yellow sparkles on her smooth skin next to the jagged rock. Then the water changed. A sharp wave broke right on top of her and her head hit back against the rock. A snapping sound. And then her pale body becoming lifeless and pure white as the saltwater washed the rest of the blood from her body, by the water front. She felt nothing; saw nothing coming. It would be a good way to die, wouldn't it? Fast? Painless? Youth is fragile.. so delicate. Life is patient, yet rushed in every way. For her, she would never have known.


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