The sand was wet so it held the impression of my two feet, and looking back on my exposed trail I was ashamed.

Thinking that a couple, young lovers, hand-in-hand, and hours later, might pass by these footprints.

They would have pity on me, a soul forced to walk the beach alone with only the companionship of thoughts.

And after they walked in my tracks, after they saw how perfectly their feet fit inside mine,

I hope they held onto each other a little tighter.