Yearning

In front of the sea that speaks silence,
You and me stand close, counting the waves
and inscribing the names of ours on the wet sand.

Vulnerability is something that allures one from within
Isn't it ?
That is why we always choose the sea instead.

You wouldn't listen and I wouldn't say,
So the obvious silence mixes with twilights
And flies on with the wet breeze that caresses.

I relive myself with the tides.
They accept the inevitable at the shore,
Still they rise, if for once, they can grow
And never touch the ground, ever again.
"Don't you know they never can ?" you say.
"Then why do you wait by the sea" , I ask.

With yours and mine, our scribbled names,
That never were etched deep within the sand,
My own optimism rushes them to futility--
Another wave and they are gone, abstruse.

What you never know is its not the swells.
Its me who disorients the hyphen in between.
Then I let the waves to flow,
On,
In,
Through,
Over...

...So that you come and I hope, for that evening
When the hyphen will remain
And the waves will never touch the sands.

SoUmY@