Beth Fisher, a good friend of mine, sent me a one of her beautiful poems this week. You can check out not with ink to read more of her writing. Please note that the original poem is formatted a little differently, as my html skills are a bit shaky. For those of you who want to see the original format, contact Beth through her blog.
This poem is a reminder to us that the fight against trafficking is worth every effort.
Michelle Brock
She Sells Sea Shells
She sells herself.
Night after night,
in the shadow of the pier.
Sometimes
she hears the waves landing on sea shells
the way men fall against
her–
Over
and over
and over.
Losing herself
in the salted rhythms
of a body bigger than her own,
She dreams of waves
that take her
far away
from the darkness
that drags her under
by the seashore.
-Beth Fisher
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