All day the ocean is rushing at the unprotected shore,
wearing away sand,
drawing the earth out to sea.
It is dangerous, in waking hours, to recognize these tides,
the quiver of light on waves,
what might be love wearing on the corners of my mind.
But there is no logic in the dark.
Safely harbored we curl our hands together
and you ask me to stay
until you slip out into a truly pacific sleep.
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