The ocean is a carrier of sand
from one shore to the next
a coast line, a town buried.
The water looks gentle
like the first pit-pat-patter
of an infatuation
that could easily be carried
into love,
but it's lust, really.

Or this is what you tell yourself,

that buries itself in sand.
And you cannot be reborn
no matter the warmth of being
buried alive.

Every crash of the ocean
builds and destroys the coast,
and you learn, from the womb,
how to cheat yourself.

08/07/2005

Posted on 08/07/2005
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