traced

a solemn soul

sits upon the sands

tracing her slender spine

a tenderly once kissed neckline

smooth curves appear upon

sun-soaked granules

teasing out the features

that he thought lost

but fingers deftly recreate

upon a canvas grainy-fine

the ocean rushes to erase

the moment of recognition

i miss the light

i see too much…

too sharply, strongly

too vividly, viciously

 

i miss the light…

not chemical, not electrical

not that cruel piercing imperfection revealing lit object.

why not some dimness…?

 

some  smoothness…

some dark to wrap around softly but not at all lessen…

some thing hidden…

some thing saved…

some thing for one to know and one to find out…

 

let the light be created,

 

let it slowly fade the light-maker

 

let it lick, slide, drip, drop, fall, fly and burn…

 

let it leave a trace as all living things do…

 

let it spark, grow, flame, flicker, falter…

 

let it live and as all, let it leave.