tiny broken pieces and a faint memory of you

deep red-forty five

the blue of the sea clashed against the golden of the sand
they clashed together,
not caring about what they are bound.
they kissed each other,
not thinking about the whines.
they love and hurt each other,
witnessed by the horizon lines.

the combination of the colours;
painted against them taint.
it equals to a metaphor;
the radiant blue turns red.
the golden brown of the hurting sand clung onto the blue dominant sea;
knowing they're not meant to be.

the sea let go, and back it goes;
the golden clinging into thee,
the see controlling where they led-
their stubborn cheeks painted
deep red.