Sand on our backs
sand on our feet and hands.
Dry sand, wet sand, gritty sand,
warm sand with shells;
Sand strewn with seaweed
and drowned with waves;
Sand pulled and spread
and tossed by the tide;
Sand bleached by the sun
under the water blue sky.
You are gone but the sand remains,
and the salty scent of the sea,
and the breeze that plays still with my hair
as though you were never here.
The white sails of ships, flying far away
catch gleams from the sun.
As it sinks into the sea,
and now belong only to me.
Thoughts of tide pools into which we sank,
bob again like peaks on waves,
but only as a reverie,
for in between the waves
I see the you that you became.
Who faithless, one day left,
while I stayed on the sand.
and only once glanced up
to say good-bye,
long after you had gone.
Oh, you came back, regretful,
some lovers do,
but I belonged by then, only to the sea.