- White
Sand
- Travel-poster
scenes
- of
screaming blue and muted gray;
- seagulls
clashing
- noisy on
the wind
- cry like
bitter children
- waiting
to be noticed.
-
- Blinking
back the brilliance
- hop-scotching
the heat,
- white
sands and something that I lost.
-
- It's no
longer there for me
- (even if
I could see),
- and I
can't make it out
- through
the spray,
- or are
those tears?
-
- Clear
tropical waters,
- gracious
and warm as a farewell kiss;
- so salty
- I can no
longer bear the taste
- on my
parched lips;
- whose
only crime is gulping the moment
- whose
only quenching drink
- is the
setting of the sun.
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