If you find my sorrow
    keep it. It has been too long

festering and coagulating
    and self congratulating.

And I, unbound by it,
    might maybe hopefully finally

reach those floating cities
    perched on colossal turtles

whose shadows we grieve under
    and leave us begging for purchase.

But probably likely doubtlessly
    I will just end up pining for it

the same way the sand longs for
    the tiny creatures leaving their eggshells

that disturb its grainy pattern
    leave into turbulent and bitter water.