Thursday, February 14, 2008

Across Sand, Rushes Time

Across sands, rushes time,
like galloping horses on the surf.
Grains and foam freckle the horizon;
minute moments~forgotten youth.

I dare not whisper my desires
into the hollow ears of conch shells.
They cannot keep quiet secrets of sex;
those that flame loins and snare minds.

Naked, I stand on the sea shore,
a salty breeze my invisible cloak.
I taunt time to gallop by me in
a rush of sea foam and lust.

In the ocean of my mind,
there is a madness that has method.
I can't stop time nor rush desire;
grains on my breast~foam on my loins.

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