stepsisters -
a growl
deepens in the
back of my throat,
building quickly and
threatening to
spill over
every time you
step on my
doc martens and
tear the collars
off of my
favorite shirts.
slices of ivory skin
bleach the ocean currents;
sweet tea hair and
honey-crisp lips spread
deep into the sand.
friday night lights
glowed against her
back, for nothing
artificial coaxed her from
savory waves that
float and survive on
sea breezes and
sand dollars.