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Beach Scene

Play with my hair.
Pull the world in as close
as the last drops of
Long Island Sound
that slip from your swimsuit down
across the back of your thigh.

Play with my hair
under freckles of laughter,
syllables and chirps,
that christen us like
parades of soap bubbles
floating from the abstract crowd.

Play with my hair
before we play in the surf
where we’ll shock parents.
We’ll be inappropriate,
the way we keep touching.
We’ll blast “Youth!” in spite of our age.

Play with my hair
Our whispers sequester
The crowd and claim this blanket
As the Nation of Us
Our consensus of two
Inviolate, immutable and perfect.

Comments

  1. SandyCarlsonApril 15, 2010 at 6:20 PM

    Wow. An intimate and beautiful invitation to the one you love. I see it, and I see that ocean in itself, in the drops on the bathing suit, in the heart of these two playful, happy people....

    ReplyDelete

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