She's slipping again,
a tiny sandcastle he holds
cupped precariously
in his hands.
He opens his fingers
just a little bit
to peek at the ground
he is losing and
perhaps to let her go.
A few precious grains
fall through and disappear
to the other side
of the hourglass,
grains he'd have to
search the entire ocean
to get back again.
She is slipping away
under a velvet moon
to swim with mermaids.
He says, "I love you"
for a few days and then
relaxes his grip,
gets too comfortable
and stops trying,
wakes up to find
her crumbling around him.
He yells, "Come back!
I miss you now! Where are you?!"
But she can no longer hear him
over the roar of the waves.
Parts of her remain lost
to him forever.