Like writing on sand
I will not tire to remind you
Of your beauty
Cause I'm afraid that
Waves will wash the shore

Massive, gray, these leaden waves
bear their unchanging burden—
the sameness of each day to day

while the wind seems to struggle to say
something half-submerged planks at the mouth of the bay
might nuzzle limp seaweed to understand.

Now collapsing dull waves drain away
from the unenticing land;
shrieking gulls shadow fish through salt spray—
whitish streaks on a fogged silver mirror.

Sizzling lightning impresses its brand.
Unseen fingers scribble something in the wet sand.

Originally published by Southwest Review

I had built my confidence out of fragility
It was like a sandcastle, so beautiful and bold

I almost believed in it; I was almost convinced
That this confidence will endure the strongest of tides

But then and with the first wave of reality
The sands moved under the castle that was swallowed by the shore.

And denial swallowed my presence along with the storms of insecurity and fear ...