Dancing here is beautiful. All air flows above the arms. What a weird sensation. What a wonderful sensation. All birds fly above. All of them. The whole sand receives the soles of my feet in an embrace. The entire ocean is singing to me, so I could dance here. The people, all stop and look. And it smells like clouds and little halves of ice fall from the sky, and people run from all the ankles of the sand. My dance becomes the dance of the rain. The water dance becomes the dance of the sand. The sand dance is, really, my own dance. I have one wing of air and one of rain. I have a tail`s thatch made of sand and storm. I have feet of frozen shells, and I dance. I dance.

I heard the sand that’s stirred up by waves. I drew a circle in the sand with my foot. Shouts are heard, towards me, as it is raining. I wouldn`t want to go. I wouldn`t want to stop.

And all the storm outside closed among the cells of my chest. It beats hard in the bones of the embrace, and my heart is also the heart of the rain. My dance becomes the dance of the chest, only, of the bones and then of the skin. This vibration slides without rush in a silence only I can hear. And it evaporates. Living here is beautiful.

written by ruah, about the day the waves broke inside her heart.

img source: deadscreations.com

translated by laylah