The ocean tucks its pleated blue
Into a waistband of coffee sand
While I watch the gossamer shells
Of my former life drift past
What will my feet planted here
So solidly become?
The ribbon of my body -
What will it look like?
Like his when I smoothed
The chisel mark between his eyes?
Or something harder and more sharp
Cutting its way to Heaven
To kill God for what He took from me.