"If you love it set it free,
if it returns then it's meant to be,"
though I know these messages
no one will read
nor will they ever come back to me.

Feet steeped
knee deep
I plea
with the sea,
debris
and defeat
littering
the beach.

Moonlit mirror,
image obliterated
by rocky reefs,
leaving only
glittering filigree
just beyond reach,
surrounded by
what-could-have-beens.

Nobody
keeps me company
but grief.