having sought the essence

of wetness...the bluest feed

of an ocean washed away.

dealt this cleanse that drives in

the bitterness of salt...and the

restless scintillas of sand.

thrashing about as the living memory

of finest breaks.

all the while listening to the raspy voice

of a chill undertow, thinking to

my selves...this is wetness.

which too, must dissolve.