We washed up upon the day
a soft cascade of pearls
We lap the shore, the sand,
the grains. A gentle cream
that curls that curls that curls
Clustered toes paw at buttered dawn,
crack sun-browned crust of still
waves drawn - languid reaching
fingers beyond dune-fine arms
Eyes stretch milky wet with dawn
Long held breaths recede like
breaking fog. Winking lashes
comb pleasant grit -- salt drawn
Upon each young day we rise
we crest, we ceaseless beat
On equal play with budding sun
we shake up on lithe feet
We stretch toward ripening sun
-- its peeling waves of light
Soft and bowing doe-like bones
warmth stiffen tooth-strong and white
Yawn like an open bowl
tart cream, tart berry, tart tongue
A new alabaster lump
yielding. shaped. carved. dropped. undone
You wash up -- an idol
master cut by patient waves
Each day a pearl is softly
mother-wrought a layer more
and all is sand softened to soft sand
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