The pink hue of the sunset touches the ocean.
The sea is the world and the sands are my numbered days.
Each wave brought in fragments of sea shells.
The sands are my numbered days.


Then, an oyster washed up on shore.
It took hours to break away the layers, like peeling drywall with short nails.
You had your first taste of sunlight, but I didnít deserve you.
The sands are my numbered days.


Your loneliness was the pearl in the oyster, crafted over years for perfection.
When Iím with you, I see fractured light instead of muddy water.
When Iím with you, I can breathe under water.
The sands are my numbered days.


Your love was as deep as the Mariana Trench.
My love was as deep as the safe shallows.
But with your lips on mine, years turned into the space of a heartbeat.
The sands are my numbered days.


Before I met you, I wanted to change the past.
Now,
I let go of it.
The sands are our numbered days.