Like Bach

Turquoise waves over soft white sand. Brown skin and smiling faces. You do not know the language, but you know arrival: it makes you whole every time. They smile such kind smiles and you think how your country beats their kindness out of them, a little each day. Stand at the edge of the ocean with your pale winter skin, and feel again how nothing feels more right than your toes in the sea. Go somewhere new every year. And you did. Metaphorically too. 

Decide to beat the kindness back into your senses. Look upon yourself with new perspective. 

My lips taste of salt, and of sunshine.