My dreams are drying out by the salty shore
I may build sandcastles and rocky bridges until
The waves wash them out again, laughing as the surf
Swallows my ankles,
Forgetting the cuts and the burns and the tattoos
Sand between my toes and sun pink cheeks I may,
Forget I'm trying to hold on so tight, to dreams that easily
Slip away in the morning fog, I might catch them,
In a butterfly net, through the lamp of a lighthouse,
I might catch them like crawdads and lizards and keep them in jars,
To keep me company through lonely nights, like fireflies,
I might just make them stay, but for now they are dying
As short lived as mayflies and as easy to pass as a summer's cold,
Like music in the witching hour, hidden among the hills
Impossible to pinpoint, like thunder, rolling as ancient wars
Sitting here, letting tears seep from my eyes like steam from a kettle,
I wipe them off with a ***** dishtowel and wait
For my dreams to come home, like teenage runaways,
Or selkies upon the moor,
If I make it through tonight, if I make it through high tide,
If I make it through tonight.