Poem 16: Run in the Sand

Cautious | Contemptuous | Caricature

Does the wind hear her bellows?
Does the sun care when she cries?

Desperate intentions
The horizon denies
Casting a plumb line
That finds no end
To the lies

Does the moon determine her fate?
Does tomorrow arrive?

White crisp linen
Touches her face
Embraces her waist

And she pulls away
And she runs in the sand
And she trips on the tide

Because the lies have no end