Lion's head

Lion's head
By Jaime Contrys

I can still hear the waves,
as they crash against the cliff.
The echos climb up the slippery rocks;
explaining its name.

At night, our bare feet dangling over the edge,
the soft pink-orange glow of LA's coast can be seen.
It doesn't interfere with our view of the sky though.
Above us in the infinite navy sky, a billion stars
twinkle down on us.

I remember the feel of your
master hands, gracefully sliding down
my hairline and over my bare freckled shoulders.

If I concentrate hard enough,
I can still feel a lock of your silky
hair, between my fingers.
I can still feel your embraces
that came so often and I 
can almost imagine 
that we're still there,
on the island. 


We are still unchanged, 
and undamaged. 


We still exist on Lion's head.