The Island

As long as I’ve lived, I’ve lived on this island. 
Toes twist in warm dunes; yet the sea gnaws at my sanity
With an exciting malice, but my feet only know the sand.
I noticed today that the island has shrunk; such enmity
I struggled to contain when this shattered my sphere 
Full of smiling sorrow I gasp gulps of last sea air.  
Out there I’ve spotted things that dance and flash, 
Play across the sparkling blue field; dive down below,
But I have also dreaded its dark shadowy flesh.  
The water whispers its sweet song; it’s stitched and sewn
Toes to ground. It holds me gently between fine claws,
Sighing, calling, wailing, shrieking, screaming. Impatient.
I toss a few more grains into its scything maw.    

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