A naked body lay ragged against jutting rock like upturned moss. Unraveling as languid eyes fixed toward a cement sky. Each crashed wave sprayed a spectacular mist, a shattered halo, that sprinkled matted, golden hair tangling around an outstretched neck and dangling from scalp to sea. Pure. One heavy arm draped across the chest protected chaste. The other cupped against thigh—corrupted. Exposed. Tides pushed weeping rose blossoms to shore. Jagged stems dragged ephemeral lines across sand, lost to undertow; their gritty parchment pulled to swirling dark. Clams snapped shut and buried deep. The winged came and went.