spinning

by Linda M. Crate

you spin me aimless
as a winter leaf, like
to dance me around
in pyramids of sand
that lick the zephyr
in tears of dusty balm —
you erode me like the
ocean does rocks; yet
I stick around because
you’re the only place
that’s felt like home;
I’m afraid of crumbling
if I build my solace
elsewhere, and you
utilize this to your
advantage; I always
wanted to be a stronger
person like you, like her.