Aiming for a creative life

I Am Santo

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Cast from the simple joy of limitless embrace, she’s absent a lifeline to what’s come before. Their past was hunger and nervous voices, words left in the high static of satellite assistance and baud packets dropped, found, throttled and connected as drops of their torrid union sweat on the windows of neither’s home. The sea and the shell, saltwater’s organic pull and release is a tide gone low and now drawn so far back that the break of his desire is obscured by an unkind sun. She begs for her sky to crumble with a longing made of hurricane force; her yearning a cloud bloom bringing rain and a torrent of win. Yet it’s virtual, pixelated dreams of better lives spent with bare feet seaside. Next to him and joining him, yet only through displays and tiny speakers where names cried are tinny whispers in seashells. In her, the sound of his voice is greater than a cliff rock surge, loud enough to careen and echo through thousand mile adversity. To her, his volume drowns the the buzz of familarity and writes new passages in books without pages. There’s caught a view of him now and again, the white cresting rage of his ardor and the stinging blue of his eyes over rolling dunes that set the rhythm to each day’d cycle. She swoons fresh, relishing the thought of his return, the simple acknowledgement small eddies of his attention reward. “It’s grand scale beauty,” she decides and she can see his reflection in a distant sky as signs of his watching, and she is right, even as the undertow swallows others in digital capture. Just words on screens, as plentiful as grains on this beach. Just kisses and weakness. Strong winds will knock it all down. The rising tide inevitable and worth her wait.


#poem #poetry #writing #writer #literary_imagery1 #poetry_addicts #poetic #poet #words #igpoetry #seashell #sea #ocean #waves #beach #sand #nofilter #hamptonnh #newhampshire #seacoastnh (at She Waits)

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