Salt of the sea

Wind swept deserted land adorned with self inflicted scorns of memory
Belittle the starry gaze accompaniment  to my day dreaming
Where the silvery moon spun of webs of self deception
I lie awake, choking, thinking of the blossoms of your lips

The quilt of your warm hands have sprouted feeble remedies
The warmth that once was your gentle touch
Has become agitated sea waves
That never again calm my anguished eyes

Dusty columns of memories
Clinging  like grasping ivies
My heart has become a shattered mirror
That never seems to forget your face

My hope lives on the silence of the clouds
Early morning dew has left me forlorn, cold
Suffocating  for a few raindrops
Perhaps they would wash my tears.