Remember the howling wind

against our backs,

pushing us forth

on that desert flattened beach

the waves crashed at our feet

splashing on our crispy clothes,

your voice mumbled in my mind

the slow movement of your dry lips

puffing on that burning popping greefah.

Remember how we walked for hours south

the stomping of my feet,

on the soft wet sand

stopping my body from falling ahead,

hearing the slow pump on my chest

the ringing of sand in my ears.

You blew fast words from your mouth

as the tide regurgitated the waves

the white foam boiling out of the sea.

Remember how we were free

walked without reason on that beach

never hearing what we said,

not knowing where we were.

Copyright © 1990 Jorge Luis Carbajosa

Photo by Maria Isabella Bernotti on

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