She lies against the curve of the sea’s hip,
clothed only in sand.
and never before have I envied
crushed quartz,
but I envy the dust that supports her.
When the tide thieves it away,
I shall drink one of those graced grains.
I’ll pack that sedimentary sentiment
into my shell.
I’ll study it well,
though it burns my tongue.
One day,
a suitor with a shallow knife
will cut her from me,
just to admire her beauty.
Were I he,
I would do the same.
This poem was originally published under the pen name Gabriel Gadfly.
