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

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 2017

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