Playa de la Cruz

It's somewhere I've never been and wouldn't care to. Dream location. Dreams reflect the unfulfilled will. My beach is my bed. The sheets are waves and I am a ship. It storms and I rock, I toss. I dream of being chased. There's a stairwell I jump down, because the closer to the ground I get the closer to freedom, the further from the tidal front that chases, the hurricane that promises no moored, center eye. But it's an Escher stair and down is sideways. I find a landing and I wake, but there is no landing.