on edge

spotting couples
become less entertainment
than milestones for the years lost.
unrestored
we become broken
knowing we are.

you lap at the tiptoes
edging, on edge

i’m sitting here
with an unfinished sand castle
grasping at wet sand;
it feels rough between the fingers.
they tear at the seams,
and get in between.

gravity beckons
knowing its allure
i slur
an excuse of why i cannot fall,

yet we dance like an awkward couple,
in silence we argue
a heated peace and quiet,

i brace for the wave –

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