The beach - prose. (Edit 2)

[serge gurkski]

The beach
Part 1.
Before a wave breaks upon the shore, she bares her scars and defilement upon her breast. <<< I love the music of this. introducing pain but swingingly, if i make sense.>>>
Lifeless and listless she lies abandoned and from the depths, from the pain within wells up countless tears. <<< the -less reptition : jazzy. dig it. and bluesy. You got me. ,-) >>> First a trickle, then a stream – a constant flow.ok. Drawn by a force unseen.this reader would have wished for a force seen. Running over her defilement. Running over, running down; cutting a swath across that which she is not. <<< slightly cryptic: is that a fear?
In the last rays of the evening sun, a faint glimmer<<< faint glimmer is a bit tautological or - which would be worse cliché ,-). why not sth rebellious here like: a yelling glimmer? sth like that , a trace of a secret identity is reflected from the collective of her tears. Reservoirs, through which, she unconsciously shows her true colours and a promise of hiddeness yet to be discovered. <<< here I would omit: her true colors. Because: first it is cliché and secondly it is unnecessary.The wind whispers to her and she responds. Reminded of things past and yet to come. Of a need, of a longing; a part of her, yet a separate identity. Again she hears a call. Speaking of change, an announcement of imminent arrival <<< announcement sounds a bit pompous: scream won't do? and she is lifted….there… she sees him, rising and swelling to meet her. The lover and the loved. Made for each other. Joined together, each a vital part of the other; so that, even when split asunder, each holds a portion of their lover. Unwilling and unable to let go. Near even when drawn apart. Tenderly he speaks to her, caressing her outer limits;<<< love: carressing her outer limits! and like a homecoming, in a rush, it all comes back to her. <<< that too.The allure of him; his touch, his fragrance, his embrace. They share a familiarity and so she opens herself up to him, the hem of her skirt lifting and falling in rhythm to his advances. Unable to resist each other, they sigh in unison. Now gathering himself, he breaks upon her awareness and within the flood comes identity. Again and again he breaks and invades her barriers and strongholds. Each fresh wave bringing revelation, forgotten treasure and vitality. He covers her and they are hidden together. Her desolation and barrenness removed. Every part of her being is restored and filled with intimacy. No stone left unturned, no scar left un-caressed; a sifting through every layer, until she is known, she is complete. There they stay, but for the gentle pull of passing time. Holding each other, total immersion and intermingling. Each fully sated and requited. For nothing was withheld and no part was despised. For but one heart beat in eternity they are one; then almost imperceptibly at first, then more wretchedly so, they are pulled apart. The governing laws of this world and the order of things not in accord with their desires, their joined hearts not part of the equation. She is to be returned from that which she stole and was stolen. But to whom does she belong? With his passing she glows and shines. No longer gutted and empty, but full and resplendent. Yet she weeps from deep within. Every sifted layer mourns and yearns for his return. How long will he be?....She knows not. Deep within her depths she hides a secret – a portion of him retained. Stored in anticipation of the dry times to come. Hoarded, guarded, protected and safe – a treasure within. The weeping continues, sapping her strength. Yet even within the pain and tears there is comfort. The feel of him, his scent and flavour, his touch, are all there encompassed and embodied within the stream; which cuts a swath across that which she is not.
(Written on Lady bay beach – Guernsey – 98)

I decided to stop commenting where I stopped. I loved reading this.
I also envy you for having been to Guernsey.
This is a first feedback only. I'd love to go on but only if you want it. ,-)
cheers
serge