Ari Gewirtzman

Birth of Jaded Venus

By Ari Gewirtzman

Sea foam spit me onto jagged shore. Both newborn and man, I emerge, a scratched pearl from brittle shells. Shivering in twilight, beads of saltwater sting my tender skin.

Eyelids lifting for the first time, I gaze toward empty heavens and whisper: I thought there would be more.