Our Beach House

May 27, 2009
By Olivia Lo BRONZE, Fitchburg, Massachusetts
Olivia Lo BRONZE, Fitchburg, Massachusetts
3 articles 2 photos 0 comments

Our Beach House

Once when we were young,
We used to always go out,
To his beach,
To his shore,
We used to cuddle
Together,
On the hammock,
Between the two tallest
Trees,
We used to walk,
And run,
And jog,
And skip,
On the shore
Where the tide reached the
Sand,
But now we are old…
And we never go back.

I enter the coffee shop,
The bells ringing,
I walk up to the counter and see a face:
Beautiful,
Handsome,
Gorgeous,
He whispers my name
And I whisper his.

He has me blindfolded,
We are in the car for how
Many hours,
We pull to a break,
Then drive on a
Familiar,
Bumpy road,
Perhaps…
He fully pulls to
A stop,
A door slams,
Mine opens,
My seatbelt
Unfastens,
He helps me out of the car,
I stand outside
And feel the same breeze many years ago.

He unties my blindfold…
And there is our beach house.


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