.                                                 sea and sand,                                          .
                ­                          salt and surf, foam and
                                       froth, greet and gather, tumble
                                    and turn, rock and roll, spray and
                                 spin, cross and current,                roar        
                               and rise, crash and curdle,                mix
                            and mash, blend and bash, drip
                         and drop, pour and plunder, leap and
                     layer, mound and mist, shine and sheen, scoop
                  and scale, spread and span, fall and falter, leap and
               layer, splash and spire, bubble and brine, writhe and write
         s             e            a           w           o           r            t           h           y

At dawn, barefoot.
Breeze was playing our favorite song
The moon lay above us
Hmm.. the stars,
Splendid and bottomless.

She gazed deeply into his eyes
His eyes … so mesmerizing,
For those she could die.

--- She breathed deeply to remember this time ---

Have you ever imagined us together?
Another life or another universe?
She asked him, looking at the calm sea shore.
He kissed her eyes.

White sand, yum food, cold beers,
Lively conversation, salty air and him.
A single word need not be said
All is in, these little moments with him.

July, 2017
Urantseren B.

Is there anything in the world
sadder than unrequited love?
I’m not talking about romance;
that’s a completely different story.

But I mean loving someone
so deeply only to find
they barely think of you.

Missing someone so much
and crying yourself to sleep
only to find they get annoyed
when you reach out to them.

Craving their love and attention
only to find they think you’re needy.

This. This feeling. This is what I believe
is the equivalent to swallowing sand
every time you talk to that one person.

Breaking apart inside and drowning
as you slowly realize you are nothing.
Nothing special to the one you hold dear.
That is what I consider unrequited love.

We, at various points in life,
draw a line
in the sand.
Marking where we've been,
where we stopped
to never venture forward.
Winds bring change no lines
can withstand. And we draw
them again in defiance.
We eke meaning from this sand
that would otherwise
mean nothing to us. Imparting
our own ideologies
onto an unresponsive medium
as a testament
to ourselves. Our independence.
The sand is most susceptible to change,
shifted constantly
by the sea, our feet,
the wind.
Still, we draw our lines anyway.

Twist around your own bones,
and sheets,
and moans.
My mouth is no longer yours for the taking.
Twirl around your own selfish woven
cotton candy,
because I have no sugar left for you.
Just sand.
Small, weathered rocks.
Gritty between your teeth,
instead of pleasing
and melting on your tongue.
Your grumbling stomach tells you that you want more,
but you'll starve.
Starve on single packets of **** you bought at the grocery,
on **** you call for,
but are never there to receive.
I went fishing for compliments.
A good night, a good week, a good ****.
When I caught you,
I didn't realize the insides were all rotted out,
or else I would have thrown you back into the sea.
That sea of whatever's and
candle-lit dinners.
Of, "Let's just go with it".
And, "Woah, woah, woah, this isn't what I signed up for".
You drank milk out of a flute,
after we slow danced for the,
'I can't remember-ith time'.
I watched your lips cradle the glass,
my ***,
and then your knees.
After,
you told me you didn't want to anymore.
After you said, "I made a mistake".
After you said, "I miss you".
After you said, "I know you cursed me when the bells rang".
The curse is tasting sand instead of sugar.

I'd like to be buried in sand
so when an archeologist, an excavationist, or a child
walks into the sandbox,
they might believe my body is a hidden treasure,
and for once,
I would be remembered.