She was always skipping along to the sound of tearing skin. Stepping with unbalanced feet, and slippery grips on wet sand. Lighting incense sticks to feel the comforts of the night, where she shall find not only herself, but the beings who live only in shadows. The water of the ocean swells, and swooshes beside the Ocean girl’s feet. She had water droplets rested on collarbones, in shape of a necklace, and her thoughts that would flume from their resting place. The air was heavy with ethereal secrecy, and the sound of lips sewn shut. Silence. I carry bamboo scented candles to the place that I had saw the Ocean girl, and I wait for the night to hang it’s ebony covers upon my life again. I wait, lost in the visions of eyes that have gone red, and less elusive than ever before. Tick. I wove ideas in the sand, where she last stood, and her foot imprints still lay warm. Tick. Listening to the sound of tummy growls, and malnourished bones crack. Tick. Tock. Time is wasting, time is rotting.