Continent's Edge

Standing at the edge of this rock, the weight of the water before me draws me in. The depth of it's color, it's dulcet tones. My connection to this stone is a tenuous one, no burden borne by my presence or absence. Teetering, the fearsome Atlantic gale is the only thing to keep me from tumbling forward. I imagine I am a sail, full only here at the meeting of these three forces.