I've painted
your graceful
face
into
the sand
last year
or so
but i was
blind
back then
and it was
snow
and it melted
t'was
my masterpiece
that I knew
never saw it
though
neither
have you
It's summer
now
you're at a beach
living life
Dom Pérignon
South of France
Côte d’Azur
or so
and I've
become
a sculpture
now
made of ice
from within
slowly
melting;
no longer blind
but
broken
crying in silence
as my tears
touch the ground
I notice
they turn
into
sand?..
