A beach,
early dawn,
fishingmen
preparing their boat,
nets arranged,
sea welcoming,
tides rushing,
sunlight smimming
into view,
and you,
one of them
thinks about,
how he left you sleeping,
tucked up in bed,
how he kissed your head,
they push out
the boat together
until the sea bears it up
and they clamber aboard,
away from the shore,
preparing themselves
for action,
and he remembers
the night before,
making love,
kissing each aspect of you,
your lips on his
over and over,
looking back,
seeing the White Cliffs of Dover.
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 2:34 AM UTC
A beach,
early dawn,
fishingmen
preparing their boat,
nets arranged,
sea welcoming,
tides rushing,
sunlight smimming
into view,
and you,
one of them
thinks about,
how he left you sleeping,
tucked up in bed,
how he kissed your head,
they push out
the boat together
until the sea bears it up
and they clamber aboard,
away from the shore,
preparing themselves
for action,
and he remembers
the night before,
making love,
kissing each aspect of you,
your lips on his
over and over,
looking back,
seeing the White Cliffs of Dover.
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