Permanent Etching

Our Ocean of longing,

Mammoth in scope.

But in the end

Merely a series of shore waves

Washing over etched letters in the sand --

     it can try to dissolve us

     but in the end

     we keep our shape

     as it recedes

     into the sea again.

Imprinted, grain by grain on my soil,

You leave no detail untouched

And take from me

All the dirt I've mustered

As your own.

And plant it

So an honest oak can grow.

     I think it's found a home

     in you...

And though leaves petal down

From torn, withered branches

Onto your soul,

You rake nothing aside

Accept what this chance is

And take

My rusted gold

To heart...

     in these ways

     we are cleaner

     than greener and polished turf.

     for I don't think real angels

     disguise what they're worth.

This is you.

My love traced out

In tangible form --

     still I don't know

     how you capture it all...

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