From Above

When the moon looks down at me
all she sees is another grain
of speckled sand sifting below.

she cannot hear me sweating
like the ocean, with my
hungry teeth, my itchy
nails.
My footprints become swallowed
by one of the mouths of wind
and we'll just keep it
a secret.

the clouds and i
we laugh together
as if we know
something more
than we should.