Growing Salt Poem by Edgar Eslit

The brackish color of the dune
is telling us of our untimely parting.
While it may be a fact
that it pained us a lot,
We must withstand the pain
and have to move on.
Our days of mourning
will come to pass for sure.
The moments of recursions,
would surely suffice even more.
But as these flitting days pass by,
little did we know that
every time we close our eyes
for a gripping resolution,
It’s been awhile when
we realize that
our lids are growing salt
silently, even without the intention.