The tide wrote its last word on the sand I read it with my feet Every coast becomes a circle Every circle finds its crease I have been the salt I have been the letter I have been the one who carved Her name into the weather But the sea keeps saying come back The sea keeps saying stay And I have loved its bruises But I cannot walk this way So I turn I turn toward the dust Toward the hills that hold no answer Toward the land that does not rust I turn Away from what I was Let the tide erase my footprints I am done with salt and loss The road climbs through the juniper Past walls of broken stone The last gull cries behind me Like a name I used to own The air tastes different here Dry thyme and burning grass The ground does not give way beneath me The ground is built to last And the sea becomes a rumor The sea becomes a scar And I carry it inside me Like a compass with no star So I turn I turn toward the dust Toward the hills that hold no answer Toward the land that does not rust I turn Away from what I was Let the tide erase my footprints I am done with salt and loss She left no letters in the stone here No carved instructions, no salt prophecy Just the smell of rosemary And the sound of something breathing That was not the sea I turn I turn The road rises And I follow
