The edge of perfect

 

When the time comes, you will be whole.

After your pores have sweat out all the stickiness and the acid, your skin can hold your bones close and tight.

After all the pebbles you threw at the sea have drowned, you will be free to float.

You go to tread across the shore, but you leave no footsteps behind in the sand because you were hardly even there.

Your breath will come slow and effortless, just enough to make the seashell wind chimes sing.