On the beach, the sand is silent

dimples, impressions, expressions

feet, and sea shells

Only at the end of our lives, can we see all that sand

filtering through the present

waves of emotion

washing over us

Did we make an impact

like a silent stone

and what do the waves say to us

when we recreate ourselves, crawling out of our own primordial ooze

all the time was wasted—the moments alone—don’t matter

thirsty in the sun

hungry in the eyes

working for something, that may never materialize

watching the volleyball girls

and the ripe sportscars

begging to be plucked

It’s almost impossible to have faith

when you have been continuously disappointed

and yet,

only in failure

only in death

does faith matter.

One girl, put faith in me

when she told me, matter-of-factly

“I believe in you.”

and I gasped

I had oxygen in my lungs

for the first time

She was

the moon

controlling my emotions

and I slept better that night, with pleasant dreams

I had a future, to look forward to

A man needs her

before he can rest on his beach

and admire

time.

2 thoughts on “A Man Needs Her

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