Hello Kelly, the poem feels like someone remembering what it’s like to finally let their body loosen after carrying too much for too long. The images aren’t just decorative they feel lived: the fog calling like a gentle hand, the curtains breathing with you, the sea opening its arms as if it knows exactly what you need. What makes it so deeply human is the way movement becomes emotion: feet gliding, arms spilling like water, a mouth opening in wonder rather than words. There’s a tenderness in the way the speaker falls into the sand, making angels out of foam and seaweed, as if reclaiming a part of themselves they thought was gone. And that last word “Fall” doesn’t sound like danger at all. It feels like permission to stop holding yourself together, to trust the pull of the world, to let go in the most honest, human way.