I know you’ve been sneaking

running around late evening, dreaming

making sandcastles by the beach

waiting for the tide to come and wash these fragile grains away

The moon will settle

sinking low, cradled by the sky

We’re never young enough

But the hours pass anyways

Glorious souls lost at sea

Are you receiving this?

My mock, muted morse

Rat-ta-tapping away against my skull

I want to hear the ocean in my head

Believe in an island that exists behind my  eyelids

Dissect and stitch, replace bittersweet memories

And you drift away with the rising tide