(Plain white t-shirt, shorts and an endless expanse)

Perhaps we go to the oceans sad

I pick a pebble, heavy as if it had

The weight of my blue world

I take the pebble to the oceans (a different blue)

I drop the pebble underneath (now blue) to

Die the outside reality closer to my hue, but it doesn't.

Against the loud thud of my pebble

The oceans are silent, unperturbed, (what is a rebel's

Claim to the old, old god of goblins)

(Next)

I claw at the sand (time)

I demand every grain be still (mine)

To sort, love, treasure as if silver dew

Wooed, held on the curve of a leaf

A gibbous of a world made just for me

Perfect.

(Enter wind, change, another tick)

Tok, the dew globe plops

Many a grain filter, drop

From between the crevices of innocent flesh

(Quest)

Are there more minutes in my brain

Or more pieces in the sand, grains

Of liquid gold, trapped in the great hourglass