Sand

People ignore what they
don’t want to handle.
Like small things their friends
say that worry them, or the empty
buildings that grow ever more
common, moving closer by the day
to where you find yourself.

One day the tide will be amplified
by the narrow spaces between coastal
skyscrapers that only the insane will still
be dwelling in. We should give up
trying to stop what we have
already decided, and just admit
that we learned nothing
from our legends where the world
ends in the ocean.

The cigar becomes completely ash
which finally falls, in a neat line,
into a tray decorated with a skull.
The smoker exhales and begins to cough
gripping the leather arm of his chair
while he can feel the bits of soul
inside divide apart until, like sand,
he cannot hold it in his hands.

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