Diane Doran
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All that I am I lay before you
Open and naked.
No pretence.

Like the shore, I am
Lapped by the gentle waves of you
Taste the open sand that
Is the whole of me,
Lick the pebbles and stones amongst
Grains of coloured sand,
Smell the seaweed and the bones
Of invertebrates long dead.

Here then,
Is the essence of all that I am
demanding nothing,
Not wanting to hold back
The tides, the moon, discovery.

Sometimes you wash me
back to the dunes,
Overwhelming, consuming,
Throwing grains of me
Back into the ocean
As you command.

I cannot control you,
The ocean,
I cannot stop what is happening
Between us.

I despise my compliance,
My passivity,
My eagerness for you,
That I will the moon
To drive you here.

I am
The unwashed shore
that remembers that
one day
I was touched
by the sea.

I wait only for you to return.

Tides © 2000 by Diane Doran
All rights reserved.