She steps out of her shoes, discards them 

in the dunes, her red sling-back stilettos 

that drive holes in the sand. She steps out 

of her stockings, walks into the waves. Bubbles 

froth at her ankles, burst against her calves.

She steps out of her dress. Tide-swirl tugs it

free. Salt air washes her in effervescent light.

Every hair on her body shivers.

 

She steps out of her skin. Her flesh beneath

is soft as a newly-laid egg, tender in the sun.

She spreads her arms. From the base of her neck 

ribbed wings unfold. She can’t see the way 

spray-drift haloes the feathers, but she feels 

the wind lift them. She’s ready now to fly.