sand stone

When my heart is confused with layer upon layer of thoughts upon thought…

when my head is awash in a storm of emotion…

I may begin to drift away from you. I may drift on out, and out of reach. Like driftwood, only to rest on some far away beach. You cannot touch me there. I will not let you. The sunlight may freckle me. The heat may dry me to the bone. I may turn white as stone. I may cry twenty rivers, and disperse out across the land. I may fragment. Into sand. You will not find me. I will not be found.

They say I can be heard. But only by children through shells long abandoned and cast, headlong, into that ever redrawn line the sea throws upon the flattened dunes.

Katya  08/13, 2:00am

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