Could there be a beach made of tears, <br />like music of snow thrown from the fingertips of a lady. <br />Then photographed <br />balancing on a sharpened knifeblade, <br />that will go hungry <br />eating only a slice of cut blue from the sky. <br /> <br />So that's where we swim. After <br />showering down our soul's sad eyes, <br />or a beach made of dislocated tears; <br />Tears that know their own heart is warm. <br />That beach in the shade of the flowers, <br />our eyes watching everyone that passes. <br />knowing that what is left in this world, <br />is only remembered when having a drink. <br />When i remember the sky is a pillow <br />where i can rest your head <br />on the way to my dreams.<br /><br />gregory collins<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-beach-made-of-tears/