I lie awake
(truth asleep)
and think of when
the sand would pulse
beneath our feet

the beach
wet from the slow retreat
of an ocean
would wring out
just for you and me
when our soles touched

here, only
dream pressed
footprints
keep their form
tide nor current
bleeds their line

someday we'll walk
(souls pulsing time)
the whole coast dry
sunsets only
as our guide