(Day 18) North Pier Storms

The sea calls me constantly
with watery blue eyes
and greying lines of separation
blindfolded into a barrel of
sniggering windswept giggles.

The sea calls me over and over
in forgotten, broken languahes
almost out of earshot
away from your loving arms
with a emphasis bordering on cruelty,

across dust over tracks
leading to the ferries
and pastoral scenes
collected in stained rain
before whispering goodbye,

leaving codes in the clouds
and tears on my collar
bordering on jealously,

skywriting in slow motion
with the early morning storms.

(Was away on Day 18 of Napwimo was don't know what the prompt was.
This however was wrote after a early morning walk in the rain near blackpool
north pier)