wash-up

I buried all my hopes and dreams
in sandcastles build twenty waves ago
and this ocean is still the same ocean,
still the same sand, but older
and out of touch,

like old friends, or older lovers,
barely touching sandgrit fingertips
and salty lips,

I left pieces of myself
buried in the sand like treasures,
sharktooth trinkets and coral ornaments.
If only I could make the world
as decorated, as the secrets
I keep hidden at the bottom of the beach...