Title: Plaque
by Alice from Devon | in writing, poetry
I am sand.
Children's feet ruffle my surface -
Spades dig into me, moulding my individual, insignificant grains into art
- into structure.
My beauty is captured on camera, yet my thoughts are a mystery.
I provide no menace. I am faceless; without form.
I do not rage like the sea, I do not emulate the glare of the sun.
I crave its embrace, warmth, undivided attention.
At night the children leave. The tents are dismantled, and I learn to yearn for their gentle scratching at my skin
Cloaked men stalk my streets, with black irises reflecting the moon.
Their heartless footprints add cold to my complexion, and leave me disturbingly disfigured
A miserable affliction
Daily they go too late
And come too soon.
I find little comfort in the gentle rhythm of the sea
Paranoid as I may be, his nature is to conspire against me -
He plans to weigh me down in water, and take away my breath.
I hear him scheming in the twilight hours, plotting my lurid death.
The black waves taunt me with their promise, as the light fades blue to black.
The sea and sun, both unite
In their daily, treacherous routines -
For they ignorantly assume, that I am but plaque
That clings unbearably to rocks and ravines.
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