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.