Safe and Sound: a poem

Staff Writer
The rising water came at her in torrents,
rivulets of sea foam lacing through her hair.                                                                                                                                                             
Salt stung her skin, kissing the scabs on her knees,
loving broken pieces of her no one else would.
Forlorn, soft whispers of waves enticed her to step closer,
promising safety others couldn’t offer.
She complied and the ocean held her in longing embrace,
folding her lungs flat and making her forget.
“She belongs to the sea now,” muttered the sailor
who’d fished her sleeping carcass from the pier,
just moments too late.