rebirth squared

She was a dame from the isle that is called Patmos.
A chattel and queen by default...
Pensive like persuasion, she sat on the edge of her solitude turned château.
Wrote love hymns that scripted the winds inveiglement with her hair and how the sun bequeathed their flirty waltzes with such passion and purity.
She sat with legs crossed where knees bend in dirty lace, dingy denim, and Chuck Taylor’s from the 90’s...
The sand and sea foam cocktail drifted up to her waist, engulfed her hands, tickled her wrists and soothed her fretful ponderings.
With warm coconut milk and fish cured in a sandy pit, she toasted with the coastline to greet the dawning of a new age.
The refreshment that the silence wafted in from a distant shoreline wasn't daunting...
it was reality...
This satiety was the resplendent consequence of being catapulted onto an archipelago of rebirth.
And on this, her orb of solidarity, nakedness, ownership, freedom, and new life;
She came forth at the zenith of existence,
A queen in her own rite.