The Well

Something welled up
the grains of vanished oceans
beneath my palms
the digging was easy
I displaced time
by touching it
and the sides collapsed
and the shellbits
of longdead crusty mollusks
touched my fingers
and my soul
they screamed for
my attention
all begging for
another chance
beside me
and you
you were at the
bottom of it all
I heard your voice
flashing in the wind
like a mermaid
calling me to crash
upon your gritty feet
and the water
welled between my fingers
and slipped away
greeting flitting timelines
other than my own
wherever you and
I might be
and now I
dare not heed
my reverie’s groan
so still
so long as what
my palms would own
are cupped for you
to take your fill.

It is so very lonely
being trapped.
But break I never will.
The chance to glide
on all the seconds
chide my hoping till
what it is,
what I think
that it may be,
is only seen through me.

Look closely now
for I am but a memory.