I am a saltwater soul with blue ridge blood
peaking like Pisgah while the Atlantic ocean runs through my veins.
The sun sings my name in Appalachian folksong
and I set it with my fingertips
dancing new constellations into East Coast skies.
Morning seafoam kisses my ankles
pleading with me to stay another morning
while Mt. Mitchell’s gravity pulls me back into a sunset embrace.
I am perpetually pulled between geography
tethered to the tide and venturing valleys.
My steps always circle back
to the sky
to the sea
and back again.
Porcelain Prose 