what must die

today,
I feel that last strand
of silver
upon dark waters,
tug at my skin,
to the chalk-face
of the moon,
as she turns her other face
away
to the other side
I can never see

today,
I feel a stinging tug
in those grains
in every sinew,
as they go through the motions,
of another ordinary day,
just another shade of grey
on white

and the moon,
she smiles from afar,
the lover I've had for too long,
reminding me
of the ocean I'd left behind,
the ocean that must not die.