Friday, March 24, 2017

Cottage

Is it too late or too soon
to live out our fantasy

Beachside cottage alone
and together

Send out tendrils of hope
purely from habit

Close your eyes as my
hand strokes your hair

Everything confirmed
to dead memory

Sparks emerge from
time to time

Brief signs that some
life still within

When I hear the voice
of the Ocean

I wonder if you can
hear it too

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