Two concavities of
disappointment, a foot apart on shoreline
Had summoned an uncommon ensemble: You, Me and departing sea. Together, we swept up the sun
into the muslin of our woes To place it above this sanctuary's chirpy repose. This meager esplanade is
where our ride ends, for now For daybreak has found
in icy cove a paramour, and how!
As before, we each in skintight selfishness Stockpile into our impoverished selves, A million mute impressions born full-term each instant Their ancestry straddling absolute turbulence and mutinous stillness. We watch the merciless dragnet of the tide Draining the waves of their souls Leaving the cruel play of morning light sand-bare.
East labors at the looms of fortune you say Weaving subtle irony and the insolence of emptiness Irrevocably into the fruits of our toil. Even dew silently descends and percolates the coast Skirting shells, in gracious resignation, never to return, Soaking with tangy sweetness the tattered fabric that Tethers us to the lifeless hourglass that has
Mummified our happiness. Long ago, that hand above forgot
To flip it on its head, To tick, and nudge its sands.
As the earth looks away under our soles Two hapless lives in tow We encounter nothing new That same old enduring thirst That same old today.
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