The water stays stagnant and warms in the sun,
Underneath, the earth breathes
Tiny grains of sand that shuffle on the surface.
My hands want to drink,
Ocean dust recedes down the cracks in my hands,
Soft cell river beds pulse with another day.
Water tension bends the light and mentions
In passing, a tinge of synthetic.
I wrote my mind's notes in the sand,
But I couldn't forget where I buried it all.
The treasure and trap,
Now a mirage that I hurried to.
I leave dimples in smiling sand
And feel the currents brush against my hand
That serve a sturdy lung in the body's water,
The vastness of past that I keep from its wander.
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