Out of the labyrinth

[ChristopherSea]

Laughter trails behind us,
beating faster to the breast,
cliff tops drop beneath us,
sea breeze glides to rest.

A warning not to touch,
or slip on heated streams,
warming just too much,
inside a clouded dream.

I drowned crystal cerulean,
whitewashed days away,
heavy on the oceans bight,
a fallen feathered stray.

Tar stains on my back
cannot blemish me,
wax runs red to legs,
the sun has set me free.

Hey Keith, if the laughter trails behind you, what is beating faster to the breast? Is it really the laughter? What about the heart?

Laughter trails behind us,
heart beats faster to the breast,

Maybe something to think about./Chris