All things must move,
and all things must end
For now, though, I'd like to pretend.
Make believe I don't run,
Make believe I don't stand still
Lie down in wet sand and get burned by the sun
Be washed away by the tide
Tears disappear in foamy ocean bubbles
I turn beige and grow seashells like shiney fish scales all over my body
Scales glimmer in the sun shortly before turning opaque and dull.
My chest used to rise and fall with the tide, but now it's unsteady and quivering.
When people passed me, sandy bare feet, I'd smile to say hello, and blink my starfish eyes and hand them a sea glass.
And sometimes they'd stretch a blanket out and lie on their stomaches with their heads cradled in their hands, a sublime look on their face as they listened to my stories, or when they had their own heavy bucket of shells to haul, they'd dump them beside me as they ly on their backs, gazing into the clouds and retracing their footprints in the damp sand (How did they come to this place? They often asked)
When the skies clouded, and scarce the beach walkers came, I'd hold a conch shell to my ear, and listen to it whisper secrets, and I'd drift off to sleep.
But soon I tired from the sameness of the sun and the monotonous tide. I turned my burned back on smiling people strolling and running down the beach. They now mistake me for a crumbling sandcastle.
All things must move,
and all things must end
For now though, I'd like to pretend
Pretend that I'm not eroding, though the waves glide but gently upon my shoulder.
Pretend I haven't turned my back on those smiling faces and wise eyes, and that I haven't grown thick, not with life's juicy ripeness, but with ignorance and laziness.
Will it continue this way until thick seaweed grows over my sandy grave? Will I lye, thick slabs of heavy cement, layering upon themselves, without even a tear?
If you happen to pass,
do not place a flower in mourning upon my belly.
Find my hand and chisel it away, put starfish on my eyes and
place a sea glass in my hand, so that I may again see beauty,
and call up the winds to blow across my face, so that I might feel love.
And through my own searching, give me the
freedom
to find happiness.
