how do you            drag your finger nails down the shores of the
blistered beach     fully knowing lines exist,
only for seconds between moments holding onto notions that
dead things can survive

over and over you become a number in the many marks left unrecorded
sometimes
  unfractured for the beats when waves don’t reach their target.

x-ray the sand implant layers of what preceded - you - impose meaning on
all the drawings you couldn’t find
faking citations to forge        truth-beaten signs