Farewell
Well, I hope is fair
The lipstick has faded away
Whether at night or during the day
Whether awake or asleep
However
I stand there, sun-kissed
clenching my hand, trying to speak
A handful of golden sand
Trembling feast
Wave
Chasing through my wet fingers
The golden sand of my drowning eyes
I would bite the grains
Just to keep them
Waving
But not all of them
He could have closed
My eyes from dripping any more
He could have closed
My mouth from
Dropping any grain
To the thundering
Wave
Photo by Christina Deravedisian on Unsplash