The gust
of the cold wind
tantalizes,
as it weaves its way
through the silken hair.
The rough grains
of the sand
beguiles,
as it sticks
onto the feet.
The briny waters
of the azure sea,
allures,
as she touches
with her cold.
Tantalize,
in the most cruelest way,
Tantalize.
YOU ARE READING
A spindle of spontaneous notions
PoetryLike a spindle twisting the wool into thread, I twist my impromptu thoughts into poetry.
