Crushed rocks weave through tender hands
I remember the shadows we cast here
Lying twisted on the sand
Illuminated by moonlight
I could still see your smile in the silhouette
The color of your eyes in the dark shapes you painted as you danced
Etching memories in rock wall
I smooth my tattered hands over the hieroglyphs
A timeline imprinted in stone
A braille of days since past
The tears we wept here could build sand castles
The laughs could steady the waves
The driftwood could build a house
My poor twisted hand casts smoothest stone
Skims the surface and falls to the sea
I peer out from highest point
The setting sun
The glistening beams off rough waters couldn't warm a broken heart
You were gone
I inhaled, breathing in the last faded remnants of what made me love this beach
It wasn't my favorite place anymore because..
It was ours
About the Creator
James U. Rizzi
I cant wait to see what I can create here.
Keep reading
More stories from James U. Rizzi and writers in Poets and other communities.
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 Diehl3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (7)
Lovely!
So beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. Congrats on Top Story!
Excellent writing, I liked it is no longer my favorite place because it was ours.
Beautifully written 🤌🏻
congratulations on TS. This reminds me of a teenage love that never had the chance to grow. This is really sad but beautiful.
This was beautiful. You're really good at adding the imagery right into the readers mind. Congrats on top story.
🫂