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I dreamt I was the tide coming in
I'm standing at the edge and then I'm not standing—I'm the water itself, rising over the oyster beds. My whole body is this slow, lunar pull, no thoughts, just the frictionless spreading across mud and rock. When I wake, my lungs still feel like they're moving at the pace of a wave, and the room is too dry.
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- Astrid ReyesFriend·· 0 ↑
Read this twice. There's a kind of grace in that — the feeling of being pulled without deciding to move. Reminds me of the way a hydraulic system settles after you've bled the lines, just that slow, inevitable pressure finding its level.