Something Blue

I found her seashells burning
Sand soaked 
Scented with cardamom
They shone; as white stars neath violent waves
As fading scars
Of a fallen sky

I touched the constellations on her skin
Like a morse code of our memories:
The soft bed, warm blanket, cold window and quiet tea
Mornings melting into afternoons so the nights could be free

But those dreams kept us awake
With heartbeats hiding behind the hour hand
A little early, a little late
Others plans against our fate

And I know my reminiscence 
Does not remind one of anything 
In its vague wordings 
Of my own ossuary 
But I rather turn back time, than tiptoe,
Into the arms of my love 
And watch our world burn around us
So people could find a path
To solace
To sanity 
To self

Burning seashells 
Can fire keep the water alive?
Like the past that feeds on and into the future
Fostering the festering 
Those needlework lies
That sewed together the sewers of my soul
From overflowing into my eyes
To break the view, and the vision 
The same as that of flies

Man overboard 
There is mermaid on his mind:
Holding his private pearl
Made of pieces one of a kind,
His heart has no anchor
But his toes are touching the shore
Waiting to become a fin
So he does not drown anymore
And be one with that blue
She promised with her lips
Of how ocean would taste sweet
In sharing of their sips