Scrunching

Playing touch tag with the waves, scrunching down into the cool liquid of the sand at the very bottom of the waves. This is how we know what it is to breathe with the edge of the ocean, to melt like seaweed in the tides. Our toes deep in the nether worlds, where sand shifts into water, we would stand stock still while the waves came up, just missing us, kissing the top of our feet with clear foam, roaring past our knees. And we would stay scrunched down as long as we dared feel the joy of it.