Sand Castle Oracles

An oracle set a castle in my palm.

It was the blessing, she said, for old souls

writ childish by a world that no longer

valued stories or fortunes.

 

I kept my hands cupped for hours after

she called the next old soul and the next

and I stared at the castle I had longed for

as the wind ate it away, grain by grain.

 

It reminded me of the sea,

10 dollars for a glimpse of childhood

misbegotten, when the waves carried me

away, and the world never knew my name.

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