The moment just before the wave hits the land. A very brief spell of absolute silence...waiting, asking, to be corrupted by the warm sound of water splashing on the sand, rolling over each grain, foaming, frothing, orgasming... and satisfying her thirst.
The water sweeps over my feet like a cold blanket. I tell her it feels like holding hands with a lover. She smiles, with her eyes reflecting each one of the million colours of the sunset sky. She takes my hand in hers, kisses it, and breathes me in.
The sea feels like the future, unknown and full of surprises, bringing everything from priceless pearls to rotten corpses. The land is the past, holding everything we created, the illusion of security and order we lose ourselves in, forgetting that all of it is at the mercy of the sea.
And the beach is the present. Constantly changing, always clean, always happy. For those who walk on it, the waves keep cleaning the path ahead of them, decorating the sand with solid shadows of seashells, and stones that tell stories a million years old. Staying in the present will give one perpetual happiness.
And the sky stands above everything, majestic and magical. To an aesthete, it is reflecting everything on earth. To a saint, the earth is its reflection, I feel like it's all the same. It's all beautiful.
The water sweeps over my feet like a cold blanket. I tell her it feels like holding hands with a lover. She smiles, with her eyes reflecting each one of the million colours of the sunset sky. She takes my hand in hers, kisses it, and breathes me in.
The sea feels like the future, unknown and full of surprises, bringing everything from priceless pearls to rotten corpses. The land is the past, holding everything we created, the illusion of security and order we lose ourselves in, forgetting that all of it is at the mercy of the sea.
And the beach is the present. Constantly changing, always clean, always happy. For those who walk on it, the waves keep cleaning the path ahead of them, decorating the sand with solid shadows of seashells, and stones that tell stories a million years old. Staying in the present will give one perpetual happiness.
And the sky stands above everything, majestic and magical. To an aesthete, it is reflecting everything on earth. To a saint, the earth is its reflection, I feel like it's all the same. It's all beautiful.
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