I smell the ocean.
I feel it cool my skin,
Baking in the sun,
Or from your stare.
My hand parts from yours,
And travels west to meet the sand
That melts golden, molten,
Through the cracks in my fingers.
Thoughts now flow to the back of my mind...
Where they will crash onto hot rocks,
And sizzle, steam away.
May 29, 2012
May 29, 2012 at 4:02 AM UTC
I smell the ocean.
I feel it cool my skin,
Baking in the sun,
Or from your stare.
My hand parts from yours,
And travels west to meet the sand
That melts golden, molten,
Through the cracks in my fingers.
Thoughts now flow to the back of my mind...
Where they will crash onto hot rocks,
And sizzle, steam away.
