It’s 1987.
She’s smiling at the waves cascading,
looking at a world
that didn’t exist.
In the emollient, rosemary morn’s glow
pregnant with prickly pear scents,
a cherry-pickled dress crashed into the foam
and up bobbed a nest of blonde.
Kissed by the wind, and nourished by the sea,
I watched my sweetheart flee.
Jan 2, 2021
Jan 2, 2021 at 2:02 PM UTC
It’s 1987.
She’s smiling at the waves cascading,
looking at a world
that didn’t exist.
In the emollient, rosemary morn’s glow
pregnant with prickly pear scents,
a cherry-pickled dress crashed into the foam
and up bobbed a nest of blonde.
Kissed by the wind, and nourished by the sea,
I watched my sweetheart flee.
i miss her.