Take a walk and hold my hand
The sun brushes our faces in the teasing light
I point ahead and your eyes do follow
Upon the shore lies a shell
White with a few tainted spots
Spirals to reveal layer after layer
Its edges are chipped
They were smoother once
It is not the prettiest shell, nor is it the largest
You can pick it up in your hand
Claim it as your own
Waves come forwards reaching out
Change their mind and roll away
Its a frequent motion. Day-to-day
Moods change in...what exactly? Annoyance?
He shall see and understand
Perhaps in disbelief
Maybe argue. Well a favour returned.
Don't pretend its not there. It is.
You're letting it go. For what exactly?
Do you know how it would go?
It scares me.
I wasnt expecting it.
Is it lost before it is found?
How final is the word
Its still on the shore, watching the motions
It may be too late, but its there
Still.
Waiting.
Im sorry.