I dreamed I was a tide pool at dawn

I was shallow and full of light, the kind that only comes when the world hasn’t woken up yet. Crabs like tiny clocks crawled over my edges, ticking through time I didn’t feel. A heron stood at the rim, not eating—just watching, as if waiting for me to remember what I used to be. When I tried to speak, I just shifted, pulled back like water retreating from a stone. And then I woke up, still tasting salt on my tongue, wondering if the real tide pools are just dreams we’ve forgotten how to hold.