Fading Scars

Broken oceans built on breaking waves 
A rigid caress on frothy sand 
Weaving through teasing toes 
Twenty times to feel it writhe 
An intense stroke reaches immaculate taste 
To know everything; In turn, to work for nothing. 
So utterly comfortable that you want nothing 
No more than what you have 
You can’t look at it. You can’t touch it. 
It’s floating like heavy heartbeats 
More complete with this perfection at my fingertips 
Than when walking alone on that frothy shore 
Reading into simple glances…memories past seem so trivial, 
Equivalent to silly insignificances making my world go round 
Like touching a tattoo: Not feeling the colors embedded in skin 
Even when removed, there it still remains 
No ink, but tiny scars to run fingertips across 
These fleeting imperfections 
Faint impression of reality years ago 
Remain souvenirs that never disappear.

This entry was posted on Friday, September 16th, 2005 at 5:00 am and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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