Blinded (Picture Prompt #10)

dawn’s early rays
scented air.
Sea salt
roar of the waves
crashing to shore.
Time slows
seconds become minutes
minutes become hours
when does it end?
Sand trickles through my fingers
each grain 
a specific memory of our lives.
I yearn for days of summer 
strawberry kisses
wine glazed bodies
hot looks
desire sparking from the slightest touch.
Winter has fallen
alone so I am.
taste of your lips
brush of your fingers
An affair to remember
to ruminate over
silent tears
forgotten pain…..
why oh why
am I so blind?
Copyright April 17/19
Picture via Pinterest again provided by The Eclectic Contrarian

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