If I could bottle up the sea breeze, I would run my hands through the salted air, and capture the dewy sweet fragrance from the flowers that bloom in the Spring.
I would take it to your house and open up the bottle, pour it loose on your mantle, like sand from the ocean, warmed by the life-giving sun.
Light rays would burst through your window panes, like boats pushing past the docks.
We could run in the water.
Empty out sand out from our pockets.
Get swept up by where the sun meets the ocean.
We could live like that, in the sun drenched haze of your white window panes.
I would land in your garden, perfectly still. The scent of tuberose permeates the evening air. The musky notes a sweet reminder of happiness and memories.
There won’t be time for us forever, but at least we have the here and now.
The comfort of each other, wrapped in layers of warmth and the ocean tide.
Our wholeness, your smile on the edge of your sleepy eyes.
The horizon overlooks a tree lined street full of houses and cars. We can drive to absolutely nowhere, humming the melodies to the songs we should know.
The sky is a dusky pale pink, the ocean glimmering its reflection of the colors.
Let’s run before we turn into the dust of the coral.
I’ll always remember that summer. Like the leaves of autumn, oh how we prepare to fall. Hues of grey and mahogany, reds and plums. Falling, and dying in the stark cold of the winter.
Days and days upon the summer rays. A memory of you, drinking iced tea through a sunlit hall.
The first real goodbye is the hardest. The absence of your first love. I thought of you, from time to time. It hurt, as wounds often do. But the wound of a new love, always different from the others. Now there is no feeling, as time did its job and quietly massaged the bruises.
I can speak to you about the memories. A box full of dust, and dried jasmines. I can still smell it, the faint scent of a better time.
Time is like the ocean. You can’t hold it all in your hands.
Let the current carry you through the stories, in the moment. So that your memories will be vivid, and beautiful.
And the memories, will always be good memories of the days that pass that could not become.
Swim, as fast as you can, through the waves.
Through the sea.
Days upon the ocean.