born from the sea

by Rachel Lynch in


born from the sea on an august morning, singing the blues like her fair-skinned mother. the electric base comes on, you hear it through the wood floors of her apartment. she is beaming with life, H2O aqua glitter drips from her pores and she bites into two eggs, sunny-side up. it's another morning, as the coffee steams from her light pink pot. she gets out of bed and walks past the mirror, she doesn't need any confirmation. instead, she looks out the window, at what the dawn has given way to, what the creator painted outside her floor to ceiling windows once again. letting out a deep breath, the coffee clutched in her left palm, warming it, reminding it, that she is alive and she is blessed.

cape by one teaspoon

rainbow dress by unif

photos by rebecca michelle