Under the bleating sun of May,
Lay the lovers of the day.
They were fallen angels in the sand.
Running from the places they’d been banned.
They stared into each other’s eyes,
As serene as the sapphire skies.
Their ruby lips of syrup, so divine,
Sweeter than the fruits of wine.
As people pass them by,
They turn their heads and sigh.
They whisper bitter words,
And mock in tight-knit herds.
The angels prayed for peace,
But the pain never did cease.
On that cursed beach,
Hate was all they would preach.
They were forced to hide and run away,
To keep the angry mob at bay.
So the lovers of the day became lovers of the night,
Because for two women, loving was a blight.
Téa Florencio is a 15-year-old writer from New Jersey. Her greatest passions are writing, reading, and learning about philosophy and law.
"Pink Sands Beach , Harbour Island" by Mike's Birds is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0. To view a copy of this license, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/?ref=openverse.
