Sandbox
he told me he created me
when he was eight years old -
a light skinned redhead
and other distinguishing features
which now I can't recall
he said he'd like to meet me
next lifetime in the sandbox
so that he doesn't miss being
the love of my life again
it's been four years
and the crystals of that postulate
pour through the hourglass of us
sometimes cutting the edges
and stinging the eyes
at one time, our lot of sand reached so far
as to try and touch the edges of infinity
as we made love, drunkenly in the black
marriage of the sky with the sea
he said he could see me then -
not like you do with the eyes, but
like when you are a spirit in a vessel
searching through a world of unfamiliar bodies
looking for someone you knew before
there we were, in awe of each other
with the hourglass suspended
long enough to decide that we were going to
build and destroy castles here together
for at least the next seventy years
and when time started up again
reality hit like the crashing waves
around us, and surrounded us
and put our infinite world back
into a sandbox, threatening to bury us there
the world can play like a storm
of waves against the shores of a life
eroding what we think is so solid
and it sometimes washes over us
with a flood that we didn't prepare for
and sometimes I'm drowning and alone
wondering if this sandbox that we called home
reaches far enough to bridge
the gulf and the east coast
Copyright © Wendy Giordano | Year Posted 2016
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