Not here anymore

 

The sound of the crashing waves

Reminds me of a time

When the silhouette of the silver moon

Slowly melted in his eyes

And the shallow sand

Too shy of his charm

Slipped across his tender fingers.

I could almost trace 

This uncalled movement of his hair

While he smelled of this sweet summer rain

I am to ascertain his presence 

If he was any real

Because he no longer sits here 

To be washed ashore with me.

He is no longer here.