I like the ocean
as it mixes with the sand
to form a cast of my foot
where I stand. It molds

in-between my toes, around
my heel and under my arch,
kinda like a paste of water and
cornstarch. As I lift my ankle

I see the impression of a
size seven. And another just like
it, and another and another,
leaving a trail behind me. As I look

out over a cornflower sea
I feel the cool, soft sand massaging
my feet. I feel like the leader of
a band. I don't need a man

to hold my hand. This walk will
be a memory. The footprints will
wash away as the tide rolls in.
Nothing here can stay.