I’m lying on my back, looking up at the moon.
I feel like I’m soaring, but I’m not.
I feel the sand between my toes, I play
With it through my fingers, so soft.
Something’s there, coming closer.
I feel it creeping up on me, it’s cold,
But I’m not afraid. I like this creature.
But is it a creature? No…
I feel the wetness of waves washing
Over me suddenly, that’s it. I’m not afraid
Of this blue creature. I like him,
I live for him.
Author: Maryke Pretorius
17/06/2005
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