I have held the ocean’s breath,
softened sharp edges beneath the weight
of earth’s endless churning.
In this shape, I am not perfect,
but perfect enough to convince a wanderer
that I once loved wildly—
that a kindred soul opened, cracked, molded, exposed and healed this heart.
You picked me up expecting answers.
I gave you silence while revealing everything, because that’s what the stoic heart does.
Press me to your palm,
feel the cold. Keep me clasped tightly.
This is not evidence of absence,
but proof that even stone can carry
the memory of warmth.
Somewhere,
The sand revealed your heart .
Somewhere,
I remember being led to you.
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