Triad Magazine

A Hillsborough Community College Student Publication since 1978.


I rest my vacant head on the ever changing

shore where a million wet lips kiss my skin,

whispering prehistoric secrets of truth.

There the water dances to the heartbeat of the ocean and the sand molds the nonliving.

I find myself buried beneath the sand,

and it too crawls around me, making me feel

unhuman like tiny grains, made out of rocks and grounded up bones.

They who have seen the deepest waters

and the bottom of our founder’s sail.

They who have met the unknown and the unkind.

They who cradle the sunken bodies of men

who couldn’t find their way back home.

There in the big blue, in the eye of the hurricane

I realize how insignificant my body is to the ocean.

How a wave can taunt me like a luring kiss

of an old time friend.

These waves have no mercy, no forgiveness.

I am but one of many who fear its majesty.

Yet, I mean nothing.

I feel the salt tangled in my eyelashes,

 scratching away the gloss in my eyes.

All I see is my flaws and the white foam that emerges when the water rages and longs for It’s faithful lover.

It rumbles and It flys with the speed of bird wings,

 back to the sand.

Back to It’s home, back to It’s safety.

I lie there and I dream.

I can only image the way the ocean feels.

It does not follow, it leads.

It is never silent, it never sleeps.

It has a beauty that mesmerizes

and a strength that surpasses.

It surrounds the earth, giving every shore

a glimpse of who It is, and who It has been.

It has the power to heal,

the power to kill,

he ability to mold,

and the will to destroy.

It does not care to know my name,

but It will wrap itself around me, softly,

like nurturing arms.

It can feel my weaknesses before I can.

It is certain that I, and a million others could not defeat It.

It knows who I am incapable of being,

and what I am not able to see.

It learns the rhythm of my heartbeat,

and It fools me to believe we are one.

But in the mist of all that surrounds me,

I heard It’s deep secret, It’s one wish, to be still.

It’s strength is it’s only weakness.

It cannot control its feelings,

as it does not know how.

It does not know when to stop

crushing, pushing and tugging.

It refuses to let me go.

It will hold me and drag me to the floor,

working its way down to where I can no longer feel,

where I slowly start to loose myself,

my home, and my dreams.

My lifeless body sinks,

deep to the bottomless sea.


There, the water will gently mold my body,

crashing it from rock to rock,

wave to wave,

year after year.

Beneath the waves,

I too become a grain of sand.

-Amisadai Nunez

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