These Few Grains
If all of this were no more
than the few grains of sand
you trickled through your fingers
on that one remembered afternoon,
staring out at a distant tanker
sailing slowly across the horizon,
while the gulls circled above
on the barest scraps of sea breeze,
before you turned towards me
smiling in that way you do,
then it would be more than enough
for me to hold cupped in my hands.
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