I ran, right on the edge
while he slept on a sheet of sand.
A rolling sea dawdling upwards
pushing shells into view and away.
Fingers woven in, out, together, apart
each gentle motion noticed and noted.
The light faded right on time
as skin cooled and we started
a long journey back, locked inside night.
We didn’t spend our time aloud
but let the moments pass comfortably.
Knowing that the oceans and clocks
were never going to be a part of our plans.

The original inspiration for Wrightsville was “sea, fingers, time” which was given to me by Emma-Jane Davies as part of the Three Random Words project.


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