Once before, Never since

And so, I put it back in my pocket, realising that since then I really hadn't seen the magnificent artwork I had seen on that island coast.

But the smell of salty water and the texture of warm breezes haunts me. Gettin smaller with time its punch to the gut has turned to a prick of a needle, but still there to remind me of the vast canvas of life painted by the distant artist.

Perhaps its a moment that I will never get back, like a speck of dust meeting the ocean. It is a moment, buried beneath the life that occured after its existence.

But its still a moment that is mine.