And still the waves
slip ashore,
whisper their
conspiratorial secrets
into sloping sand.
The wind slides ashore
from dark seas,
from empty spaces,
haunted by silences,
Shockingly cold and clean
like the sharp hum of
a wet finger sliding on
the spotless rim of a
fine crystal glass.
I might… I might
drop dead at any moment.
Sooooo… I look at a
beautiful Siren
and sigh, suddenly young again.
This, and a kiss,
This is what I’ll miss.
And still the waves
slip ashore,
singing their
conspiratorial whispers
between grains of sand. Great Image…Love the captivating beginning! Beautiful!
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Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:
Please read and enjoy the work of a talented writer.
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Amazing poetry and beautiful artwork. Thank you for sharing your work.
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Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.
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