I lay cradled in the sand
chilled from a long night
salt moist sea sucked
and I pretended
it was your arms,
the rumbling ocean
echoes of you in my bones.
Sometimes I’m sure
my love is strong enough
to wrench you from sleep
in that brittle historic clay
like an Adam, somnolent
from a feast of too many
poisoned apples.
There’s no erasing old scars,
only new interpretations
to be made of their curious
Braille upon the skin.
First of all, I can’t believe I got to access your wibsite all of a sudden…wow…and 2ndly…of course, I adored these words…
“in that brittle historic clay
like an Adam, somnolent
from a feast of too many
poisoned apples.”
Took my breath away, RG…awesome!
Base Ball…
Yay!!! And thank you. I’m so glad you liked it.