every hue has half a grain of sand in it, today.
up above i see stalactite waves and down below i
see a coast.

a woman jumps, and her braid comes undone.
a young man struggles to light his cigarette, he
gives up.

throbbing between them is a pattern snaking its
way onto their flesh around their fingernails and
to the tips of their eyelashes,

they become who i love, who i cherish, space-time
and refreshment, with me i tuck them in to sleep.