If I lay back on the sand today, I know I will just disintegrate–

        degenerate, deteriorate.
        The wind, coming in strong
        from the south sweeps
        grains of me and grains
        of sand through the air
        and, somewhere along the way,
        we pick up grains of salt
        spraying off of breaking waves
        collapsing toward more grains
        that get churned up in the surf.
        Everything gets mixed together.
        The spin of the Earth mixes molecules
        and we are all really just atoms any ways.

        But some of us, well,
        some of us are just atoms trying
        to find our way
        to you.