Proceeding to walk on the sands.
The loud atmosphere on the busy shore by now failed to tunnel the chaos in my mind, instead the picture surrounding me is drawn as though the ocean is alone with melancholy waves.
The footprints that I left behind shall serve as a wavering testimony against my tomorrow, I have wit, yet nothing last forever.
Continue to walk along the shore.
I guess reminiscing any memory I have of you at this moment would not be a benefit at all to me. But people always say that we shouldn't let the memories die away, as it is for us to sustain the days.
I do, of course, get in line with that remark, it is, if not too unheard of, tremendously correct.
Carry on to walk on the wet sticks.
Not that I want to bury you on purpose, ever, and everyone can address my humble self as unbelievably nuts that I ain't worthy of smelling a one precious air if ever something like that penetrate my brain.
However, I don't actually require memories to retrieve you seeing that you've been scurrying in my mind everyday and never get for-worn.
Keep walking with the water lines.
Several paces to the front, the core of my eyes could see that finale spot of the beach, but never for the blue tide which we be familiar of it's horizon tip with neither origin nor nucleus.
In case you ever think of measuring the extent of the tide's tip without it's base point, then you should be able count my longing to you.
Breaking from the walk on the beach.
Both legs poise on the spot where the sea water cover up my ankle as I observe the dreamy orb right above my head dazzling my visions and all those senses I have left.
Realizing that the phase has arrive, today is the exact season for me to expose a freshleaf and wipe away your graceful traces.
Mia - 26th November 2010.