Summer and the sun. Sun and the heat. The heat and the body. The body under the sun. The sun heats the body. The body in heat. Heated sand. The sand and the sun. The sun heating the sand. The heated sand washed by the waves. The waves that wash the body. The body under water. The water-drenched body. The body soaking in water. The water...the sand...the waves...the body...the sun...summer.
I’m a child of the sea. Sometimes calm, sometimes raging. Flocked with thousands of people, adorned with millions of riches, and yet at night, I stand alone in the darkness and stillness of the night. They’ve passed by, etched some prints on the sand then they walked away. It’s just another summer fling, focused on the now, without any regards for the past or the future. Nothing to hold unto, nothing to cherish but memories, nothing to hope for than to indulge in the present. To savor the passion, the intensity of heat, of emotions, of burning desire. They’re all like that, they want nothing but summer flings. I’m a child of the sea, but I am not the sea. I can mold my own life, my own destiny. I don’t want summer flings. I don’t want to be burnt with passion and desire. I don’t want to swim and be soaked in sudden waves of emotions.
Playing with words. Me playing the words. Words playing with me. The words that played my heart. Ahhh..summer!
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