In the air

It’s always a blur of greens and blues,

And the warm sand in her shoes.

Of fading boardwalks and seagull songs,

And a yearning to finally be where she belongs.

The lilting whoosh of the ocean waves,

When they hit the rocks and the hidden caves.

The icy winds now carry his voice,

All those whispers of sweet nothings.

The promise, the vows and the choice,

They made as they exchanged rings.

The tears now freely flow,

the sobs making her bones shake.

Shattered as the memories assault,

she simply lies awake.

It’s been 3 years, she thinks,

as the nostalgia inside swells.

And yet, Everytime she breathes,

the past is all she smells.

Mosaic-of-the-Soul

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