The Tale

The Tale ★★★★★

Curled underneath the warm sands are the stowed away expressions of previous hours, ghosts enveloped in dust and temporal movement — a peculiar aching. Bodies fuse with the color of the grain, planting their feet firmly as either a symbol of repression, or the loosening of restraints. But the call of the birds, the smell of salt and the summers so far from familiarity are easily erasable, like chalk marks on a blackboard. And watching us from the waves, so very distant, swim children afraid to return to the shore, for fear of being swept in too far; for fear of remembering that the cold embrace of the sea is still an embrace, though an embrace of abuse & abrasion.

Eli liked these reviews