If I could
I would have chosen as a pet
the delicate creases
left by your feet
in the wet sand
I would have fenced them
in a comforting womb
made of splendid castles
of sea and sand and shoal
waiting for them to deepen
into fine groves where I can seed
the scent of brine
the salt of your taste
the gleam of your eyes
cultivating all
so they can grow and feed
my awe stricken soul