If on purpose, or by accident

you keep pouring yourself into me

like sand with water passing through it

you think it’s leaching, leaching, leaching

and filtered through while I don’t notice

waves and salt, the sweetened dunes

-----

with our respective anchoring grasses

and all the loose bits, dampened

you've left me dark and granular

at risk of temporary castles

-----

with all the atoms clung together

we’re stacked in dyads, drifts no longer

stuck together and compacted

like sugar quartz and rock salt

that might, when struck, revert

or organised in matrix -- sand to glass --

a new window, crystalled, flows

-----

So I hesitantly wish that

supernatent, you’ll float above me

for if some signal, word or touch be

seeded, I’ll flash beyond where 

we’d even hoped that we could go

and be in salty syrups, quenched

-----

with excess heat in repetition

denser yet, and may be anviled

made malleable yet unchanging

altered by deliberate bonds

-----

so go on pouring, pouring, pouring

and know each time, I go whirling

drawn into your passing

by dancing music of solutions

know I drink you at a distance

thirsty and craven in your absence

-----

yearning to be dissolved