Wednesday, September 29, 2010


Waves colliding with the sand.
Stone edges, once sharp to the touch,
now worn smooth by the
relentless sea surf.

You are the waves
that crash onto the shore.
The foam that lingers
on the sand.
Like the hand that lingers
on mine.

I am the rocks on the beach.
Once roughened but
now worn with softened angles.
Soft like your eyes as they rest
on mine.

Sometimes it's easier to
relent to the pressure and
the crashing cacophony
than to battle the breaking crests.

Because the longer you stay in
my heart and in my head,
the easier it is to yield to the quiet
of the outgoing tide.

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