Shrinking Tide of Love

A hollow ledge—
that’s all that’s left of us
after your love
drifted out with the tide.

A small and lonely pool
clings to the stones—
tepid, still—
mirroring a dull, shrinking sky.

No waves crash here now. No life stirs
in this barren place,
only the slow drying
of what once was love.

A faint outline stays—
the ghost of water’s shape,
etched into stone
like the memory of your touch
fading grain by grain.

Even the wind
passes quickly now,
unwilling to linger
in a place
where nothing answers back.

The edges crack first,
a pale and brittle rim,
dust gathering
where hope once lived.

Sometimes the light
plays tricks on the stones, and I
imagine water returning— but
it is only sunlight
pretending at hope.

Soon nothing will
remain— the pool lost
beneath rock and sand,
waiting for rain
that will never fall.