Stones

I am a beach covered

In tons of brilliant

And beautiful stones.

People come to me and

They admire the way

I have let the waves crash

And pull at my body

While staying full and

Seemingly unchanged.

They stop for a visit and

Sit at my feet, spilling out

What has their mind

overflowing.

They reach down and

Let their fingers fold

Around pieces of my

Soul.

"It's beautiful", they say

With their hands cupping

One of my many stones.

I am simply honored

They are able to look

At me and see beauty

That I choose to stay silent

As they slip that part of me

Into their pocket.

I am alone now

And one stone short but

I do not worry

As I have many.

Until one day the water

Touches me

Like it has so many times before.

This time it feels different.

Colder.

The tons of stones

That once protected me

From eroding into sand,

Unworthy of your hands,

Are no longer here.

How could I not notice

As you left with full pockets

Visit after visit

That you never left any

Of yours behind for me?

Am I so determined

To be needed

That I would rather

Cease to exist than

To ask you to leave me

Whole.

I am a beach

Covered in few

Precious

Beautiful

Stones.