Buried before our birth,
             we're  grains collecting
beneath every breath.
             As we gasp within.
Am I worthy of every fragment
           collecting within a silhouette
of times shallow grave, I'm obscured.

Though the waters
                           may fall,
evaporating like shadows
of what momentarily descended.

There is still a silhouette
left like a
               moment,
not seen but knowing
       it had been there.  

*"Tears always falling elegantly,