Misleader

he who comes in like the waves –
lush, frothy, soothing, loud,
his smell lingering behind me
where he paused a gentle moment.

he who leaves like the waves –
brash, clear, quiet, slow,
his words hanging over me
where he spoke them potently.

he who cannot be contained
in a box, in a hand, in a heart,
for what are trapped waves
but salted water?

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About Aditi

My thoughts are who I am and I am what my thoughts make me.
This entry was posted in Foodie Aside., Life in general, Poetry, water and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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