I wanted to go somewhere with you
and somehow we ended up on the beach
with my hands in my pockets.
It was windy and you had nothing
to cling to, so you sat down.
I put my jacket on your
shoulders, and you thanked me.
In the distance, boats with sails
like white handkerchiefs
were being cradled by (the) waves.
You bid them farewell and smiled.
I just looked at them and at you.
Before we left, you wrote a poem
in the sand. You didn't let me see it,
you said: ' this is something
I want you to read tomorrow, after I'm gone'
Next day I went to see what you meant,
but it didn't last. The waves
took everything, even our footprints.
Junkyard Of Muses
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/melancholia-20/
