by Vatchrawee VivacharawongseAs I rest upon this sandy beach,
the sun burns and bronzes my back,
my heart aches as if it has been pricked by
a thousand thorns as I reminisce about
the day I rested my head on your
stretched-out back,
studying the hills and valleys it creates,
as I linked the constellation of your
freckles with my fingers
and gentley kissed them.
The love I have for you becomes
a flame in my heart which will consume
me alive as I think of the time when you
traced your fingers over my heart -
your tantilizing, liquid eyes took
a breath from my lungs.
Asked me what you have drawn upon my chest,
I replied in a whisper
behind your sandy coloured hair,
A box filled with dozens of roses.
Vatchrawee Vivacharawongse