If she was a sound, I would gather the roars of the sea and the bellows of the stags
To mould her voice.
If she was a motion, I would look for every gust of wind and heartfelt hug
To ease her touch.
If she was a thrill, I would store all her views in an old box labelled ‘Spectacular’
To keep her rushing.
If she was a second, I would think of all the castles and their hidden whispers
To make her freeze.
If she was my home, I would not fight so perilously to have her in my life.
She would simply linger there, far beyond these memories we share.
|On Harris, Horgabost Beach|