Twisted Torment of Tantalus

As the tide withdraws
Back toward the sea
Turns pure salt into
One’s own sweat and tears
I cut my losses
As I cut my nails
To stop the urge
Of this constant itch
That’s crept up underneath
My skin

To soothe my thirst
Now once more
I begin to quench
Such unattainable things
Of food and drink
This helpless need
To take a sip
A purpose to
Unparch my lips
Yet once again denied