The White and Endless Shore

On some day when you recall me
I will be washed up on the shore
Of things unfinished and forgotten,
or unwillingly endured.
That's where I've lain forever
A relic washing in the surf, sun
Bleaching me as white as foam

And only the sand has the decency
to prick me
and remind me
that I still am of the earth.

"Where am I?"
"Why'd you lose me?"

May my questions prick you as the sand pricks my cheek.

An unrelenting, irritating memory of pain.

"Regret."
"Come, retrieve me."

I am lying where I lay
On the beach of things you left unfinished
On the endless shore of white.