Like a messaged bottle patiently paddling ashore,
My love eternally yearns to be read from your sandy fingers.
And if nothing else,
Let the tongue of the waves swallow me whole
only to reveal my love as deep as the ocean’s floor.

And if nothing else,
may the foreseeable crack of this see-through-canteen
breed a new beginning of shredded glass.
Let it crash into cobble stone thrones
to have its remnants slowly be soothed, smoothed
and scattered amongst the sand dollars.
If nothing else,
Let them be picked, piece by piece by
the wandering,
the curious,
and the kind collectors who stash them in their sea-green dining rooms.
Let them rest amongst the plethora of previous lovers
and reflect their eternal light from dining room windows.