Edge of a goodbye

Past. Snatches of pop songs

like    flat stones  skipping   the        waves

by the grainy sand. Sandals and driftwood.

The edge of the jetty, bicycles tossed aside,

swinging our bare feet, the ships in the distance like hulks of rock.

Tan skin and smoke and the edge in your voice.

(A word from you and I would have

closed my eyes, surrendered to fate

leapt off the rock into)

Crystalline waters.

Would you have done so for me though?

Even before things went pear-shaped, was I

ever on your mind as you were mine?

(Did you ever) imagine we could fly?

I could never tell you what I wanted (to say),

Waiting for tomorrow, soft jazz and dulcet tones

are my companion. Desperation and the moon.

Soft rain.

Do we fake a smile again

when it’s time to say (good)bye?

In response to the daily post prompt:

Edge

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Author: naomi

Student, likes learning about foreign cultures, shall not divulge anymore so my identity is not exposed!

7 thoughts on “Edge of a goodbye”

      1. I grew up near the coast of Long Island Sound. It was beautiful–in fact, the few times I’ve moved away, I’ve felt a pull to come back. 🙂

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