the beach

It was like the last cigarette I smoked before I quit for good. That’s how it felt. There was sand in my hair and everything tasted like salt and your hands were so warm. I leaned into your arms so that the shifting wind couldn’t tear me away, and we stole secret kisses that only the ocean saw.

I felt the wind change that day. It plucked at my clothes and blew my hair in my face and distracted me, just for a second. When I looked for you again, you were already gone, like smoke disappearing into the rain.

'the beach' (c) riain grey 2006 - do not reproduce without written permission

No comments: