the paper lie with its half in as the remain flaunt with the air.
a peek at the last line open my sluggish heart to curiosity with the safest energy,
I found myself digging at removal.
dusty and rumpled with strokes of emotions and silent pain
this is written decades ago,
a century before the dinosaurs and big bang theory
before the emergence of Adam and Eve.
”If only you knew how my heart becomes yours” it read,
”every tear behind your smile struck me like a chain, tied around my neck”
print of tears hang on the sheet,
drawing the image of an unexpressed love tired of hiding.
“If only I could tell the three words to you in one sentence…
‘but here in these sands, dear Carolina,
will I bury my written love for you, that nature be the witness of my pain as you step on the edges of my heart”. George.
I dig the sand making a hole, this time it’s a deep one, long as my hand and bury the letter in.
At least, if I can’t help George tell Carolina about his heartache love. I can help him re-bury his letter so the sands can absorb his pain in years to come.
Lo, between the crowdy legs,
is a beach love letter that was never given nor expressed
just between the sands, behind the smiles and around the edges.
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