Only taking subtle steps
We approached a sandy shore
At night, when all was quiet
Save the sounds the ocean bore.
We watched as waves unfolded —
Spilling thoughts onto the land,
And rummaged through their contents
As if for us they had been planned.
Grubby fingers grabbed in haste —
Picking seashells one by one,
Leaving nothing but the driftwood
Like a cold and lifeless sun.
We departed with our spoils
And like bandits turned our forms,
To allay the guilt of being seen
By the eye of god, just born.
We take what is never given us.