Thursday, September 06, 2007



Sands are stirred
by the tide of our love;
lips locked with salt
and the essence of alabaster sighs.

Clouds long to weep,
overwhelmed by our passion;
the air so thick that
nothing can breathe, not even time.

Sands stirred, as we
break like the surf at our feet.
From above fingers watch
sea foam clinging to our toes: secrets kept.

Like temptest love,
the sea knows no mercy,
ripping the sand from under us
only to toss it back, grain by grain.

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