 |
| Image by artist Salvador Dali |
A time where everyday is an old memory forgotten,
A time where the young girl talks about picking cotton...
The days were hot she says, fingers bleed.
A night nourished by the twinkling stars with her sister,
Laughing, pointing their tiny digits to the sky, she can't resist her...as the cool breeze tangles their curly hair into a whirl-wind of infinite memories, time stops.
Yesterday was a time that didn't last. Today was a day that passed by too fast. tick tick tick, and her hands tremble.
tick
tick...
tick
and her head turns to dust, wiped away to live another decade in salty sea-breeze and her father's musk.
No comments:
Post a Comment