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By scqueen Date: 2001 Jul 26 Comment on this Work [[2001.07.26.17.08.17702]] |
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The ocean's salt patterns my calves, as it dries in the sun at dusk. Sand trickles in between my toes and I sink my soles deeper, to ease the day's burn. I am alone on the shore but the whisper of lovers a hundred years old, tickles my ear. I do not have to close my eyes to see them. They are the seagulls' cry from above, the fringed pampas swaying in the wind; the iridescent sparkles beneath tiny shells, the prey of fiddler crabs about to give in... I have always been drawn to ghosts. I do not have to close my eyes to see them. |