Sarah Hayden · Follow 1 min read · -- The blues, the beautiful blues of a new creation. A bleed below the surface that has not made its way out. It longs to be prodded as proof of its tender place. The deep of the sea. Check for softness, check for sharpness, check for the truest point of impact. An ocean. This will change. How many bruises have there been before? This, my friend, will change. The sun-starved, the yellow undertone. The skin that belongs to my father.