Another love poem? I ask myself.
She's a red streak
where the waves froth her feet white
a girl scouring the sands for shells
in the ageless haze the sea spews
bending and rising like the doubt
if time by some quirk has stopped
and the slanting beach is that warped space
where for long has homed
all the free souls of the world
love being their only name.
I walk up to her richer
by another love poem.
Sagar Island, Nov 19, 2017, 4 pm.