Opposite of Infinite

- 5 -

5 - Tides

my feet were sinking into the beach,

moulded into the sand that was already

cast into plaster

thanks to the water gently lapping

at the golden sheet.

I had left a few footprints in my wake,

engraved on the gleaming cloth like some sort of

faded memory that was soon to be washed away,

somehow akin to the way words would fade from a page

but without the lasting influence.

the water was creeping closer,

gently and slowly

in the sort of subtle motion

that held no threat at all

and,

due to the scorching beach

composed of things once hard made soft,

I welcomed the cool, refreshing embrace

of the ocean as it enveloped my skin

in a temporary kiss

and left once more.

urging me to go closer and whispering

words of comfort at the very moment that I saw you

standing in the store

at the end of the aisle,

camera in hand as you held it up at

just the right sort of angle

to capture the perfect perspective.

with lines leading from the lens,

the shelves drawn by man himself

as they guided your eye towards the focal point.

your focal point.

to me.

just before I turned,

and saw you standing there,

cheeks as hot as the sand

and waving,

albeit a little sheepishly,

saying that you simply enjoyed photographing

beautiful things.