"He ran his tongue over her bruised knees and she was immediately overwhelmed by the intimacy between skin and bone,
by the feeling of his wet front teeth,
by the wetness of her purple and yellow trauma swelling just beneath the surface.
It was always there, an invisible pollution, but finally it had risen and
—dear God—somebody wanted to kiss it.
Sometimes her body was a swimming pool full of dead bees and foliage, and sometimes she liked that better.
It kept the delicate boys away.
When she was little and lived by the sea, she swam a lot and was fearless with her body.
She let herself be thrashed and turned about by wave after wave, this way and that way.
Her grandmother always said Never turn your back on the ocean, because you never knew what might be coming in.
She used to think about sharks and stingrays, then tidal waves, then she thought about a horizon full of big white sails.
Still, she always felt safe in the water, and she welcomed the invasion."
~Tati Tibble