I am sand - drifting formlessly, settling briefly;
dusting edges traced clean by housekeeping’s judicious forefinger.

I am sand - black with iron and ****** wrath;
shattering glassily against a wine-stained ceiling.

I am sand - my trespasses turned to pearl;
rippled and flurrying, wedged between sandal-clad toes.

I am sand - porous with desire yet disarmed by possibility;
a fortress on the brink of invasion by the sea.

I am sand - recalled to the desert, claggy with melancholy;
a loping caravan of travail, westward bound.

I am sand - measureless and infinitely uncontainable;
sifting from hour to hour...and life to life.

I've spent the morning soaking my heart
in your words,
feeling each tenderness,
devouring nostalgic verse,
lingering in the fields before sunset's lips
grow silent

How your thoughts intermingle
with my own, slipped like satin
over my head to dress the hips of day
Such quietude to linger in these rooms
with faces I've yet to see, whose
minds are ever present

This meditative state, laced in whispers
enchanting the morning
      thank you for sharing
your vulnerabilities and concerns,
for taking time out
to feel and hope amidst
the scars of unprecedented days

Thank you for reminding me,
we must keep pressing forward
towards the dawn