bury oceans into
the abyss; the
smell of seaweed
sinks into sand

where you
left your foot
imprint like stones
do the beach.

the smell lingers
and i'd do anything
to bury the sublime
deeper & deeper
into my imprint

to trap it and never
let my nostrils notice

it's hard to do this dance
of salty and sweet.

i'd rather taste
the salt than
the truth