Immersion
My eyes dart from alabaster walls to stucco ceiling as I lie extended, exposed. A scalding sting jolts my focus to the raw patch on my arm, and I tense. Black poison seeps into my pores, a permanent infection. Heavy eyelids fall as my mind and my body float back to that one time the ocean yanked, churned, and spat me out onto the hardened shoreline. Rotted seaweed surrounded me and conch shards inched their way into my flesh, joined me in rejection from the sea’s purity. Grains of salt and sand choked me, trespassed into my lungs as my head pulsed against the ground. The roar of the waves quieted into a buzz, a numbness that crept into my toes, climbed up my spine, and brought blindness into my soul.
My eyes open to a potent sterile scent, a vibrating needle that allows me to resurface. I see a blur of silver tools and latex hands that taint me with the initials on my inflamed skin. I lock eyes with the gloved stranger before me, and his sea green pools drain into mine.
I find comfort in the toxins within me.