Wednesday, 22 August 2007
standing by the sea
Once, there was someone who loved you enough to wait for your return. They stood on the beach and hoped the waves would somehow carry you back. There were letters. You wrote your life into folds of paper, left the imprint of promises where they'd be seen in the half-light of a morning room. But you took so long. And, tired of waiting, the one who loved you most let you drift from their heart, replaced you with constancy and the spoken word.