Tabarca.

There is a struggle between land and sea. 
The land divides the water 
and the water engulfs the land.

There is a constant crashing of waves, 
constant cries of seagulls, and the human town 
slowly pushing against the borders 
with their shouts and songs and limbs. 
The battle frontier is only clear 
when one steps towards the edge of the island. 
The war marks are carved out in the rocks, 
creating a system of caverns. 
Ivory bones lay glistening in the sun, 
beaten against the jagged cliffs 
again and again by relentless waves. 
A cemetery is placed in this transitional space. 
The ending of one journey, 
and the start of another.


-Cindy