Untitled by Isabella Hardesty

 

 

On the soft, smooth waves,

You rock with rhythm.

Your back to the Sea-

And your eyes to the stars.

You ponder,

Let your fingertips graze the water

As you do with memories.

So vivid with color and life,

But if you look closely

They become blurry

And wash away.

Yet your fingertips remain stained...