If your shadow is not cast
on my doorstep tonight,
If your eyes do not meet
if your palms do not touch
if your breathing is not
near my ear tonight...
then, tonight is not ours.
As the light slowly envelops the night,
and so our mystery ends...
from this side of the window
I can see the gloomy afternoon sky.
My toenails are gray because of the coldness
Coming from somewhere
seeping through my veins telling me
The air envelops me,
touching my skin like nobody
Nothing but a piece of cold shit.
If this cold wind could dissolve
I'd like to be holy...
From this side of the window
Bring me somewhere
The beach is not so calm and not so noisy...
The sand dances with the waves in
the rhythm of the leaves of coconut trees.
The feet slowly join the swaying of the
monsoon... Birds are not singing but
chanting, alarming the heaven to save
the soul once the body drowns...
Lorie Halliday is a freelance writer and editor who lives in Portugal. She has worked over a decade as a professional journalist, exploring Asia and writing extensively about the people and places. Her fascination with ancient buildings and prehistoric monuments, as well as linguistics and philosophy, inspires her to travel. Lorie grew up by the beach. She enjoys surfing and all the little islands and wildlife, especially the turtles.