Stone and Sea

You pull away again, and leave me to the sand, stripped, rooted, waiting on you to roll in again. And again, you will, to smooth over the edges, soften my jagged, hard feelings with your wanting, weathering waves. Because you simply can, because I will remain constant, still, unyielding. Because I am but a stone for the tides to crash upon. Yet you, in all your distance, you, in the deepening dusk, in the scattered embers of our fire turned by you, I see you, clear. And before you rise again to wash the view, I will look at you, a mere surface, reflecting the light’s descent.