The lighthouse walls are crumbling yet she remains, obstinate against abandoning this signal rock as the others had done.

Her sea is drama; spray from waves spilling up onto the breakwater bestow salt-tang kisses upon her cheek and throat.

Quivering, facing into the bite of the storm, she surrenders herself to her briny lover. His figure murky; his words a garble of passion and ice.

Sigh. Should I hit print or delete?

written raw for mlmm wordle 217 (the 10 wordle words or word forms are bolded)

writing raw/raw writing is what it is; sans editing or revision; first thought scramble across the page