surface

If I’m standing on sand
You’re the shift at my feet
Picking each grain
and releasing the heat

If I’m standing on rock
You’re the cracks underneath
Scratching off fingers
and shattering teeth

When I’m walking on water
You’re the skeptical cloud
Storming the waves
and flooding the ground

When I’m gasping for breath
You’re the wide open mouth
Poised to swallow the sea
full of sweet salty doubt

It’s too calm beneath
the
surface.