The dunes are tall,
but, we can still hear the crash.
The smell of salt reminds us,
of treasured frames.
You asked if I remembered,
“yes” I do remember that one.
Flour like sand,
it cradled our feet.
Our palms smacked,
the land.
As we progressed,
to our full stride.
Loops of gold,
surrounded us.
Tickling the laughter out of us,
it echoes beautifully.
In slow romance,
your gaze meets mine.
That is when you turned,
'click' a pose framed,
by my eye.
The shutter captured,
a moment of escape.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 9:15 PM UTC
The dunes are tall,
but, we can still hear the crash.
The smell of salt reminds us,
of treasured frames.
You asked if I remembered,
“yes” I do remember that one.
Flour like sand,
it cradled our feet.
Our palms smacked,
the land.
As we progressed,
to our full stride.
Loops of gold,
surrounded us.
Tickling the laughter out of us,
it echoes beautifully.
In slow romance,
your gaze meets mine.
That is when you turned,
'click' a pose framed,
by my eye.
The shutter captured,
a moment of escape.
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