The Sea Shell

Satin sheets of sweat,
Lay, between the curvaceous textures of our bodies-
Gilded, against the turn of tides.
Each waves crest, peaking with anticipation, rising like fingertips, reaching towards the sky.

I -
A belly, full of sea water.
My body -
The sea.
An intrinsic rhythm, echoed within eternity -
Its’ tranquil surface a liquid mystic,
Potent with possibility.
A glistening facade of sunshine, hiding the mystery that lay beneath-
The depth of life not yet christened, unscathed, under discovered...

You -
Eyes of quicksilver, black moons bereft mercury skies.
You -
The sky, a limitless epiphany of time, of absorbing space.
Your body -
The breeze.
Sliding along -
This thin layer of fragile nothingness that separates,
This skin, its surface ever changing, ever receptive to your touch…

We -
Reveling in the calm, reflective patience of
warm whispers.

There is the taste of salt.

Lungs full, eyes closed.

A heart-beat. Yours. Rhythmic like the tick of an internal clock, like the crash of a continuing tide.

The cool, compact sand, pressed to my flesh.

A tender word, pillowed by the soft exposure of a manila cheek,
Painted pink with desire -
A Shell! Brushed by the colors of the setting sun, as it is plucked from the shore and cast to the east, in the brief moments before it is seemingly swallowed by the sea.