30 Jun 2016
Footprints
crimson dusk fades slowly
as the dying murmur
of the restless waves
a gentle breeze from afar
ruffles my hair
i think it's her loving fingers
as the breeze leaves me
my heart flies off, too,
along with her
the clouds are gathering
blurring the distance
and i smell the rain
on these feeble sands
my infirm feet tiptoe
and my fingertips dance
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