I don't really go to the beach to swim.
I go to look.
The strip silhouetted against the sunset seems empty.
But I can hear talking and laughing and shouting and the sound of the arcade.
The sound of the band is so distant I can only feel the bass at back of my throat.
The wet sand is a slick sheet of glassy pinks and oranges stolen from the sky.
I like standing with the water rushing at my ankles, staring dumbly at the moon, writing poetry in my head.
My mind is empty and it feels better than anything else.
The ocean seems to sink into the sky, and as my heels sink into the thick, wet sand, I feel as though I am sinking with it.
I know I should get up early to see the sunrise, red and brilliant over the ocean as everyone else sleeps.
But somehow I like the beach better with the sunset at the back of my neck, alive with the sound of people, and the ocean ahead of me, dark and silent in night.
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