sand devils

There’s many an is-that-all-there-is moment hiding beneath this palm shade.
If Margarita is the Balm of the Soul, then Belikin is the Bane of Remembrance.
Everything I could have had is sediment at the bottom of this bottle.
Everything I found instead is a pearl washed by gentle waves.

happy hour —
the sandcrab scurries back
to its nest