From the Window at Saint Mary's, High Tide

I wonder how much longing the sea can hold, and where does the longing go? Does it fall to the bottom, forever tumbling amongst pirate's treasures? Does it dissipate into fog that hovers above the waves?

Women in corsets pressed up against panes of glass waiting for a loved one to come home, or wishing one would go away. Unspoken longing, felt in times where it was unsafe to even put it on a page. So many have set out for the sea with a longing. The physical body stops at the edge while the energy of the longing keeps flowing, out into the light and wind and waves.