I take off one shoe, then the next
I sink into the sand
these grains have not seen the sea in years – centuries
I give them something to feel
the sand swallows me like a pill
as if it’s sick and only I can fix it.

I pick up one shoe, then the next
I pull myself out of the sand
the grains stick to me – I can no longer see my own skin
I’m heavy with a need for salt water
the sand sinks its longing into me
as if it’s sick and only I can fix it.

I hold on tightly to my shoes
I step into the sea
the grains wash away, I will not feel them for years – centuries,
the sand sinks into the sea
but leaves its longing with me.

When I leave it’s as if I’m sick and only returning will fix me.

© Elvier

Elvier is a 25 year old poet who struggles to write poetry in her own language, so she writes in English instead. Sometimes she writes about real events, sometimes about fictional characters and every so often she writes about things that probably happened to someone, just not to her.

To read more of her work or contact her, visit:

Website: Markantekorenwolf.wordpress.com

Twitter: twitter.com/ellvier

Instagram: instagram.com/markante_korenwolf

Tumblr: markante-korenwolf.tumblr.com

Hellopoetry: hellopoetry.com/markantekorenwolf