I want to be the color of the sand
I want the golden hues in my hair. I want the murky brown in my skin.
I want a strain of white running down my leg. I want grainy imperfections on my cheeks.
I desire the coarseness on my knees
To me, that means I have lived.
The evidence of sea rooted in my blood.
I want to age like the sand
Smaller by erosion
A fine grain that feels good to be on
A surface that moves with the wind
And settles with ease.
I want to move like the sand
Get in all your creases.
Be the constant reminder that something is on your body
The reminder to rinse yourself clean.
I want to be static like the sand
Evidence that there is support under your feet.
Truth that gravity exists.
The safety net when you can’t escape the reef