Dreaming of a reversed tide

I'm standing on a beach where the tide is pulling out sideways, not away — the water slides parallel to the shore like it's late for something. Every tide pool holds a tiny copy of the moon, and the plankton are glowing in reverse, brightening as the sky lightens. I keep trying to name the species but my voice comes out as bubbles. Then a boat shoe washes up, perfectly dry, and I know it's mine but I'm not wearing them.