Tear-stained, cold-pressed sheet.
Strokes I hoped would bring you back.
Dip the brush. Repeat.
🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍
It’s close to midnight.
These hollow words hurt my ears.
Just give up the fight.
🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍
Soft breath in my ear
As we swayed in the moonlight
Fingers clutched two souls
2020 ©️ Dana Eve Valencia
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| 2015 © Dana Eve Valencia |
✎ #DannysDiary ✎
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“It’s going to be all right,” I said, feeling my bottom lip quiver. “We just need time.”
A long pause of silence followed my words as we sat there on the beach. Both of us too wrapped up in our own thoughts to talk or move.
Out toward the horizon, the sky was shot through with brilliant bands of red, orange, and yellow. The flaming colors reflected off the ocean waves.
But the early spring sunset was also chilly. I shivered, the cold breeze making goosebumps pebble my skin under my sweater. I had not realized before how cold it had gotten. But now I felt it, freezing my tears.
You must have noticed how I felt and quickly you took off your denim jacket and put it upon my shoulders. I smiled weakly, grateful for your sweetness. After all that we’ve been through . . .
I turned my head to gaze at you. You lifted your hand to push back your hair. I studied your face, evenly lit by the golden hour. You were silently looking at the setting sun, tiny tears in your eyes.
I brushed sand off a tiny abandoned conch. “I didn’t know about hermit crabs until one pinched me.”
“I’ve never seen a real one, actually. I’ve only seen clips of them on BBC Earth,” you said. “But they look harmless.”
I smiled to myself, amazed by how you still humor my silly stories. “Well, looks can be deceiving,” I said. “It’s interesting how they live. Unlike snails, they don’t have shells of their own, so they have to find an empty one to live in.”
Your forehead wrinkled. “What’ll they do when they get bigger, though?”
“They’ll have to find a bigger, more comfortable, cozier shell. Move house, move on,” I answered and shrugged. “It’s just how the world works, I guess. You can’t force something that doesn’t feel right anymore.”
A sad smile. “Poor little things. What if they don’t find one?”
“They’ll get eaten.”
“That’s tragic.”
“Not really. I mean, I love me some surf 'n' turf,” I quipped, and you laughed at this.
That was our last sunset together.
And we both understood why.
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⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❦ Danny
