the ocean's gift

There was this night that happened a couple days ago,
(naturally it was no different from any other night).
The sky was dark except the bright moon and stars,
the air was thick and warm like honey left out on the breakfast table too long.
Cicadas screamed and drilled into my ears as I laid on my marshmallow mattress,
watching the fan above me spin around and around, as I held back tears.
My midnight coated cat stood like a shadow
in the background watching me with yellow eyes.
(I can rarely read her emotions but I think I saw something that night).

Thoughts, worries, everything that happened and that was too come,
weighed me down heavy like a feather stuck under a rock.
The questions and panic attacks that often occur in the back of my mind,
hit me face on like citizens revolting against a monarch.
(I'm quite the nostalgic person so it's not rare for me to wish back the past, but...)

I laid there remembering the constant sound of waves rustling,
and the salty smell they brought along with it.
We used to crack the windows open so throughout
the whole house you could smell the ocean.
Sand (god, sand!) it gets everywhere!
Have you ever felt sand in your bed sheets?
(it feels just as pleasant as it sounds)
but even with that constant annoyance I'd love to go back
to that small Spanish town along the coast.

I remember this one morning, I woke up early
(back then I was always eager to get up)
and ran to my parents bedroom.
I think I was screaming something about wanting to go to the beach.
(Through the cracked window I could see the sun
peeking through the clouds and illuminating the sand;
they looked like little bits of gold)
after a few hours, after everyone ate breakfast and got ready to leave.
I remember running down the hall
(I chose the stairs instead of the elevator)
the feeling of the hot golden sand touching your toes
is like putting your feet in a fresh bath.
The grains of sand were so small, the consistency was like water.

I walked with one hand shielding my eyes from the sun and
the other hand holding onto my flip flops. As I reached the water
(the sand dampening and darkening with each step)
my foot landed on something hard. Immediately I bent down,
(I couldn't see the what it was under all the sand
and the sun hurt my vision. I never wore hats or sunglasses back then)
brushing off the sand I came upon a beautiful doll's face.
She was small about the size of my thumb and rather looked like me at the time;
with big blue eyes and straight golden hair.
I remember the confused grin that grew on my lips,
and asking my sister is it was okay for me to keep it.
I think she said something along the lines of,
“It’s the ocean’s gift.”