The wind brushes the ocean waves, the water cold,
unlike the warmth of steps once trodden.
Sea birds calling across the surf, evoking thoughts
of love letters, salt-water tangles, and pristine sand.


Somehow everything felt different.


Sandcastles washed away, pulled into the tide
as the seashells scraped the shore, the scent of jasmine
striking notes in the air, punctuating the passage
of time.


Fragments of a melody wind through heart-strings.


An ache in fingers that still reach to be held, the
need never greater yet hesitant to be fulfilled
as lips meant to be brushed with kisses whisper
words of lost prayer in reverent honour.


The first time was just as beautiful as the last.


The touch of smooth glass and a velvet ribbon
of hope falls freely unwinding emotion
that scratched deeper than the surface
and remains encapsulated in raindrops.


Memories worn in the reminiscence of old perfume bottles.


• Valentyna Holloway


The Ripped Notebook Series


Vitaliy Timkiv

Vitaliy Timkiv Photography


The Ripped Notebook Series ©  Valentyna Holloway


Do Not Reproduce Poetry In Whole Or In Part Without Permission

© @ValentyneDreams — Valentyna Holloway 2016




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