A Letter for Spain

The heart yearns for mirror images. Asking quietly but without cease to superimpose it's lines onto that of another. To fill the white space with time, and late nights by lakes on docks. To cook meals and be the spoke in each other's wheel. Building sandcastles with minimal awareness of the tides that come- etching in windows, floor tiles, chandeliers and banisters. It watches the ships set sail and refuses to blink. Not before they’ve eked past another horizon, or the foam has swallowed yet another kingdom.

The eyes burn as the song plays itself over once more, another lost to dewy-eyed and tender-footed adventure. But I can't look away from all the violet, red and blue. Cast in the shadow of the sails, but far out of reach. True to nature and just as things should be, the boat carries on.

Another lost, because they're just like me.  

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