Endless rhythmic dives and breaching gasps.
Murky waters cover burberry clad jewels.
The world's most mined material.
Chiseled sand diver with coarse skin
eons of plunges eroding fear.
His striated sandstone disposition.
The same sand assembles his castle.
Sold for profit and computer chip cavities
as hourglass drips feed his family.
He barely stays afloat
preserved in pristine blanket wadding,
quicksand dread dragging.
Useless desert sand. Too round, smooth
to mix with cement. Sand ripples in the wind.
Pruned like washed up diver fingertips.
Beaches are windows.
Ajar. Squirt gun fights and flying kites to new heights.
Agape. Waterboarded by waves and choking for air.
A speck of sand in your eye,
no tears left to wash away the pain.
The sweltering heat of responsibilities relieved.
The world is running out of sand.
Rough, angular grains interlocking
to construct a stronger future.