I belong to a place I used to love.
You trail your fingers in the cold sand
Of the long beaches on which I stood
Vanishing in the distance
And through the clouds, seagulls cry, fly over the jetty
Crumbling in the sea.
Soon, your feet are submerged
'Cause after hours passed, lying under a declining beam of light
The tide did rise up
And the ground shakes
As seals take their place on the sandbanks.
We watched wide-eyed while the sun declined
In the dunes, past high grass swaying in a soft breeze
You wake up and just above your face
Tears of dew condensed on the taut canvas of the tent.
Wild grass brush your feet
Coming out through the opened flaps
You feel the kiss of sand in between your toes
And in your mouth the taste of salt remained tatooed on your tongue
After the wave.
You'll bring it back with you on the way home.
I know that if you'd come to that place
A day when kites colored the sky like pastels
You'd never want to leave
You'd love it like you love me
You'd let the sound of waves rock you
While under the tent your eyes would start closing
Your feet lingering under the last hues of blue
Just a couple minutes more.
YOU ARE READING
purple wounds
PoetryChapter One: Glimmer of Hope (purple wounds) In her song Sweet Nothing, Taylor Swift said: "On the way home, I wrote a poem You say, 'What a mind', this happens all the time." This quote defines exactly what you'll find in this collection. Several...
