remember the fine sand

that burried your gorgeous feet

lest you forget

the fine sand...

that also burried mine,

only that mine were not like yours.

remember the fine sand

carried by wind

or was it by the water?

the fine white sand

and the seeds of watermelon

scattered along the shreds of red
fruit flesh, too...


remember the red light

of the city that speaks of volumes of
memories

of pain...

of joy...

of time...

of love...

of friendship...

but i remember the sand

the water...

the watermelon...

and the seeds of watermelon...

and the shreds of the fruit's flesh.

and as i remember how the sand burried
my feet

i exhume the pain...

the joy...

the time...

the love...

the friendship...



and how can't i be happy?

but i cannot not be sad...