51: Shine

Light speaks from every direction;

where to go -

in heat so full it has weight;

it has sound. My ears fill up

like the sea; air rushes;

my pores speed open; everything

comes in as I panic

and close in the night. It would take all

the wind to

move

this sand; on these tiny grains, slowly I gather:

I am all the wind,

and will soon be crossed

here,

in every direction. I am found, away.