what is a body if not sand—
glass ground into fine
fragments of otherworldly shimmer
masked by the sum of skin and organs
dunes shift and crumble with time
touching everything, even the inside
of folds unseen or unknown
pieces of me lodged
in you
and isn’t it magic
how we are not we alone
how our scars fit into the narrative of these tides
how I breathe you in
how you exhale into my mouth
this sea is the same as our hands
70% of every gesture
moved by a great pull that doesn’t need a name
even though we do
part of me is already gone
eroded by you
or another starry being
and I smile
shining like the moon
on a quiet surf
