I escaped my reality for an afternoon on the deck
of a borrowed sailboat. The crew was rented
and anonymous, paid appropriately for discretion
and silence. I sat for hours in the sun, unconcerned
with the red quickly spreading across my back and neck.
The new coloring would be a testament to my decision
to transform, to slip from one world into another.
Wind flowed over and around me, a slipstream
of embracing relief, before catching in massive sails,
pulling me forward. I picked up pen and inked my own
epitaph: Dear Life, I am leaving you for the saltier side
of the waves. Sadly, you will not be missed.
A.J. Huffman’s poetry, fiction, haiku, and photography have appeared in hundreds of national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, and Offerta Speciale, in which her work appeared in both English and Italian translation. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press. www.kindofahurricanepress.com