Eyes somehow seem to see beyond their closed lids, brows narrow as the
Tingling of fingertips cause breath to bereave itself of life, lest the charge,
Suspended ‘tween wishful walls, and the secret powers that dwell there, dissipate.
Murmuring dunes long swept up and down shower the shivering sea with
Cotton promises, enticing her warmth with soft sunken land, handing her
Eggshells as collateral to lesser known sands.
A hesitant ripple tacks along meeting’s edge, playing with pebbles,
Testing the mineral resolve, grain by grain. Surf not seen for tides
Comb the beach for stray gems amongst the shingled shore.
Lines traced by advancing water attend a temporary wake, fading as
Attention is turned elsewhere, but never truly leaving; nervous molecules cling
To each other, lovingly held in an embrace that could last centuries.
The dried sands rehydrate as waves breathe themselves into being, weeping with
Each thirsty submergence, crying with each seeping stroke, weeping a revealing
Radiance, shining from an inside residence who’s outward glow
Knows no other than itself; recognising none but its own, particular, quality.
The polar forces of land and sea embattle intimately in dance, teasing each
Other to waltz into the halls of amour, magnetising the entwining air with
Fresh, sparkling gestures. The grains wash the sea to such purity that the
Soothing whirls surge driftwood pearls from beneath, floating them gently to
The surface where they bloom; are treasured; and assume a role of royal
Distinction, cradled by both elements with equal, tender eloquence.
The soft mist from sea’s playful spray begins to settle around the slowly swaying
Scene, caressing the dream in a cooling, lingering haze.
Her graceful arms unfurl to lie easily on the golden, giving ground,
Soaking the sand into her shape, forming channels for foamy memories.
I’ve quite forgotten my name. There is only this meeting of wayward
Flames, ebbing and flowing, evoking shimmering strands of flickering frames,
Softly sinking into the depths of eternity.