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