Of Piers by Kymmo Valenton Loss is a heart drawn in the sand like a mandala, Or bravery built like a sandcastle, Too close to the edge of the sea when the tide comes Slowly washing away every last grain, Every speck of courage Built up to walk across the boardwalk To the end of the pier to look her in the eyes And smile without an awkward, nervous giggle To ask her to dance. Her elegant wrist rests on the old, wooden Pier guard rail that contrasts With her soft, creamy hazelnut skin. Her hair is backlit, gloriously Set on fire, revealing her radiance. You are not ready yet and all your plans are sure to fail. The salt in the air is thick in your throat As you notice how large the ocean is behind her, And how high up the planks of wood you’re standing on Rise above the crashing waves, Loss is yours because you turn away A few steps from deeper waters. The wooden boards beneath you creak. 56 theMeadow
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy ODQ3NA==