. . . Babylon . . .

You made up names for the the days before this . . .
wrote them - tracing the letters with your fingers in the sand, imagining it was the warm flesh of your passion - your desire- and as the turquoise waves would wash over them . . .
you would smile and know - that they would kept - sealed forever in the seas of summer . . .
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You gave birth to to a new sense of time - it lived in the hourglass or your soul . . .
each grain that you gave - you gave with a smile to the sun -and a grateful bow to the moon - it was with them that you made the promise . . .
and in exchange - they shaped you into a sundial clock . . .
the clock - of wood - earth - and fire formed from the rays of the sun - ran backwards - like you did laughing through the shallow shoreline - when you held "time" still high above your head, an offering to the gods - and he(time) looked at you - and sighed - like the wind of the east . . .
your golden brown hands danced round and round the numbers - keeping track of the moments - of the memories - in the order of your decision . . .
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You build a castle in the sand, it took you every day of summer, you filled it with the laughter of children, the smiles on the faces that passed you by, of warm wind that caressed your face as you rode that old bicycle you rented into town and honked that old klaxon horn at the traffic cars, you filled it with fresh food from the farmers earth, of warm bread from the local bakery, of the sky with it's blanket of stars and how it looked at night as you slept under it, of that kiss - that began as a wish and grew into the sundown of summer, you filled it with all the colors of the rainbow, of the rain and how it smelled, of flower blossoms, and of dreams you never dared mention to anyone before . . .
and around this castle made of sand you built a city . . . a city of . . .