by Jason Alan


each grain of sand

you trample upon

on that beach

feels the weight of you.

the shore is licked

by a billion tongues.

the air you breathe

tastes your throat

and is drowned

by your lungs.

your eyes record thoughts

and some slip away

never to be seen


the clouds run

through skies

that do not fret

over why or when.

over if, but, and.

but you

just walk

claiming your false superiority

as you trample upon the sand.