No Name

I know you.
I know you like the earth
Knows geology: Constantly
Happening but we can’t
Quite Name it.
The tectonic sin, is envy
Incremental and inexorable.
The beach is lovely,
But you are
Grains of sand powder fine
Filling our mouth and
Caking inside our eyelids
Crumbling into our vision
Erosion
Neither dances alone nor waits.
Caressing our cliffs made of
Soft stone to make more
Sand to wear away the skins
Of those we love
The mantle will pull us under
Rending the dust to lava
Even then you win.
We finally
call your name to
Accuse you at last as the
Water rushes over our heads
And we suddenly envy the other
Sins.

Written by Marcy Erb of Illustrated Poetry