beach day old soul they won’t say that you will never be young again that you’ll grow too tall to be buried waist deep in the sand that you’ll miss yourself skin reddened sticky fingered ice cream smeared trading sea shells like promise rings puppy love come and gone with the tide old soul they won’t tell you you’ll erode yourself with waiting or that longing for the horizon is not better than sitting still in the sound
amber who let this man look towards the night sky arms spread throat bared white grin wide stars shining in mirror dark eyes who let me drink from the fountain of that sight and him shadow softened and long as the rolling fields enough to stay fed for a good long life if i knew i’d ask for more i’d beg them to catch us up in amber and never let the sun rise
Beeper Peddle is a writer and healer living on the East Coast. She lives with her partner and their beloved soul puppy. Beeper writes about sorrows, lies, and deep loves. When you read her work, you will dip down into her heart and end up in all manner of body parts. Should you find yourself reflected in these words, it is merely coincidence; however, it does not surprise her you share the same heart. Find her at bethpeddle.com and @beeperpeddle on Twitter and Instagram
Pippa Russell is a screenwriter, poet, avid science fiction fan, and the co-host of Adapt or Die, a podcast about adaptations. You can find her on Twitter at @russell_writes or @adaptordie_pod.
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