In the quiet hours an expansive and sweeping loneliness swept through her. The recognition of all she had and all she had lost. The emptiness forming a womb of cobwebs and the faded light of dying stars as she lay alone. Breaking free of the web she walked slowly meandering between streetlight halos with their gasoline sheen. Along the way she collected stones that slowly filled her pockets. Walking walking walking till asphalt became concrete became gravel became sand, she paused to view the reflection of moon beams and cresting waves wishing that she could be whole and full of light like the moon that danced across the waves that beckoned her closer to an ebbing tide. Her hands in her pockets grazed the hard cold smooth stones and rocks and pebbles and she felt their weight could hardly compare to the weight of empty and alone and darkness. Dry sand that softly caressed gave way to the cold wet sand beaten down by waves and finally the waves washed over her toes and then her ankles and she continued to walk allowing the waves to press into her like the body of a lover heavy upon the bed and then the weight of the stones and the darkness pulled her into the dark water and she swallowed the sea allowing it to fill the empty spaces taking up residence in her rib cage and her womb and slowly she became a part of something and ceased to be. to be alone. she became darkness and light and the sea and the waves and the shore and the sand they became her companions.