Tuesday, August 13, 2013

The Bubble

She floats within until she doesn't
wet with the remains of memories

of a day when trees sashayed double time
lime in her glass of Pacifico 

a reflection of the ocean in her eyes 
the sound of wind in her hair 

a wind so fair and dry to the touch
of the arch of her back and I chugging 

in the sand to keep up, wondering 
why she drips so with water of the sea 

fairy splashes that make sinkholes in sand 
that last only seconds then bear themselves 

and me to some lair within and below
sallow invisible trembling hollow trees 

those trees we both have come to love 
so much

No comments:

Post a Comment