italic* bold Sound of waves crushing on the shore Thousand seagulls screaming Foam on the sand grains Ans again, no marks left
The only the marks that it really like Shown after the storm when it retch them out to sand : Sea shells, ships Fractures, Bone white logs to...
It play with the winds Or the winds play with the waves My feet sinking in the wet sand The grains caress my toes Today I play with the ripples on the shore
Salt dried on my face Mixed with the salt of my own body From the windows of my soul It's answer to the swells Like a forgotten memory to time that we came from the water