When I am out of the ocean I am afraid of it.
I learn about it.
And despise it.
With the big fish.
That could eat you in one bite.
I think that when I actually get to the beach I won't be able to get in.
But then.
I do.
When I get there I love it.
Swimming and splashing in the waves.
Running along the sand.
I feel something and scream.
But it only turns out to be seaweed.
But then I think again.
About what could be in the depths of the sea.
Even the thought scares me to the bone.
But then I remember the sand in my eyes.
And how sharks and fish never come close to humans and I get back in.
Then I go farther than anyone else.
Maybe as an act of defiance or stupidity.
Then it is time to go home.
So I do.
And the cycle starts again.
