I found myself at the beach picking up sand to build a castle.
Watched it fall through my fingers as if the
small particles were pieces of me
falling
falling
falling.
And I couldn’t fit the pieces together before
the next wave came crashing and pulled everything
back into the dark, endless ocean.
I see my sand heart
floating back to me with the next wave,
as if my soul follows the tide now,
swelling with grief, crashing on the shore
and then retreating, swirling back into myself.
Maybe this time I can pick up the right pieces,
fit them together before they slip through my fingers.
The sand starts to mold and I start to put myself back together.
I turn to admire my work and
The sea spray smells like salt against my back as the wave
comes crashing to take my sand heart back again.