Analog Ocean

I stand upon the sandy shore
of an Analog Ocean,
Lost in the static of time
where only moments of clarity seep through.
Waves of thought break
against the curves of my ankles.
They swirl tantalizingly close,
but never break the skin.
The tumultuous trade winds
writhe and silther through my tresses,
stealing my existance
with every whispered embrace.
As the digital sun sets
I become strings of golden and red,
and the rising tide sunders
my every last trace from the world.