The beach is her, she is the beach. Am I staring through two ports out at the wild sea, or at her brilliant blue eyes that stare back at me. The contour of her jaw matches the curve of the shore as the tide and her recede, I'm left begging for more. As the sand runs through my fingers going everywhere, I realize it matches the color of her flowing blonde hair. As she plays on the beach in the sun, in the sand all I want is to be with you walking along the beach hand in hand. As the waves lap bare feet and the sun sets beside us, the salty breeze carries sand from the beach, that seems to belong to us. I take my hand from hers, then move it down to her waist, pull her in close as we stand face to face. My nose brushes hers with her freckles that dust it, our lips interlock parted just a little bit. We pull apart as the sun shines its last rays then meander on home the end to a perfect day.