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.