Walking alone,
The wet sand apron
Follows the ocean,
Standing before a footprint,
She would not wash away.
I watched as other shells
And little stone imprints
Gave way to relentless waves,
I’m coming and going
But she won’t wash away.
With trepidation
I set my foot within the footprint
Becoming a pillar of sand
Without illusion
Of flesh without need or desire
And the waves could not budge the entrenched truth
of this footprint
Unscathed by erosion,
She did not wash away.
As night fell in high tide still unbroken,
Will it swallow me
Fill my lungs
Stop my breath because
I dared to love.
