Strolling by shore she's stealing rocks

 
making sure she won't step in the sea
sand sticking to her short white socks
is like a prisoner soon to be set free
skirt bearing dozen willow trees
in synchronized waltz with the roses there
wrists and sleeves hug, like burning flees
or two naked sinners while having affair
Necklace from shells is setting sails
gently guarding all the shameful lies
of mute thoughts hiding in details
below a painted smile and waterproof eyes
gift the depths don't dare to refuse
and instead swallow it with great lust
then, on pendants place, she will choose
the last stone that belongs to the blue and vast.

You can almost hear the ocean speak
whispering through the rough spume of waves
asking this stranger not to freak
and telling the tales of its own crimson phase
"Know my dear that nights are darkest
right before the dawn begins its return.
Think of things you hold the dearest,
and retrace your soft steps to where lights burn"
but by now it's half past too late
she stopped just to watch the moon sink
adding one last day to her date
for just this once - the dawn isn't coming.

Wilted willow leaves start weeping
"... Goodnight then my cypress flower.
My beauty with trouble sleeping;
My eternity -
           lasting only an hour."