Having Broken Friends

Being the water molding sand castle people,

whose sediments keep falling away,

just enough to sculpt prehistoric figurines, or too much

to sulk into mushy mounds. You are the in between.

You can't erode scars, baptize sins, wash away hangovers, drown out their fears.

They can only drink if they come to,

cleanse if they long to, swim if they need to.

You are merely the oasis.

Still in your place, heavenly destination in times of desperation.

Move softly, never stagnate.

Patience.