Love at the Waters Edge

falling
in the vast track
less call and response
rain and grains sound
the same as waves
passing
from one figure
to another

looking
sideways like a crab
for a home to have
and to hold
on the verge
of a dune in the
foaming
sea bloom

finding
little message
less bottles
washed up
like bodies
waiting
for the big drag
back to some far shore