Sand smoothes.
Time sifts.
Swiftly tips.
Parched lips, wait.
On one hand, hours hush.
On the other, longer, hand minutes mix.
As a buried rope, in the sand rises suddenly,
so does the heartstring that tugs our magnetic fields to grow together.
Nodding in unison.
Yearning outside of time.
Is it such a crime?
About the Creator
Rowan Finley
Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insight
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
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Violence Begets
"Any last words, cowboy?" "None you'd understand, sodbuster." "Funny. That's Marshall Sodbuster to you. But I meant some last nugget that would help us in the adjudication of the myriad offenses counted against you and your gang. I wasn't asking for penitence."
By Adam Diehl5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (4)
The idea of mixing and smoothing rings true. I love this
Hours hush… minutes mix. Very nice, Jesse!
Messing with my head again? Good!
This one flows like a mirage! Feels like time itself took a deep breath. The tides of the heart pull stronger than the clock ever could.