Too much emotional cargo on this sinking ship. All women have tempting lips. Every Holiday inflicts recollections. Each day, a thousand new ills, from the affection category.
How do you get it all packed without breaking the lock?
Her flesh is translucent. Ascends then fills the sky. Across the ocean, garbed in clouds, her breasts rise and fall, rippling the horizon.
Dockside, stranded, he sits on luggage, cigarette in mouth. Another city that has grown near water. Another lonely man surrounded by curtains of mist. “So this is what a sunset looks like here.”
Later, away from the stress of every day life. It is late at night, when, whatever the air, he thinks of her.
The Soul can be a portal as you escape from the winner’s world. Everyone suffers from life. You can defeat the voyage by indulging the heart.
Love can walk on water. Make illusions breathe and bleed. Memories are stowaways on dreams.
Copyright – 1985 By Timothy Herrick