Walking along the beach,
My eyes obsessed with sand,
It’s easy to ignore all that’s sea.
Lord, forgive me,
Watching my step, or looking for something.
Walking bodies talk minimally,
Making intercourse hard to believe.
Hands are finding things:
Purple shells, white shells,
Driftwood, round rocks to skip,
Two cones phallically attached to a pine branch.
It’s pretty obvious, we’re all stupid.