scooping
wet sand in cupped palms,
it
trickles between fingers, treacle i
rub it
across my skin, white and
pink
and goosepimpled like
supermarket chicken breast. inspecting
the
particles, black cream
brown and
transparent
cubes, sticking to me like
so
many limpets; forearms, calves, the
small
of my back. the fleshy fields
on the
inside of my thigh.
sinking
back into the sea they
leave
me, a galaxy of microscopic meteors;
a
salty surrender.
