Indians or rabbits

 

Drenched from the surf

on an unguarded beach

we removed our jeans

to a blanket between the dunes.

 

The tips of the black waves

sparkled like sequins

and your dirty blonde curls

took on a pink hue

as the moon hung at the end

of the silver path,

a diamond pendant

lighting cool night air

with white-hot brilliance.

 

I laid under you and rubbed

my lips across your wrists.

You asked me if I thought

anyone had ever made love

on this exact spot – where the

soft moving mounds of warm sand

met the damp hard sand of the beach.

 

We squished it through our toes

and I brushed it from your eyebrows.

The mist on your breasts

tasted like salted marble,

beckoned like the moon,

that the night be spent,

caressed, and I thought

perhaps Indians or rabbits.

 

2 comments

  1. Hi Craig

    A beautifully intimate scene underscored with lovely description and tender sentiments/memories that definitely create a romantic atmosphere, and the beach with its incoming tides and night moon always help to inspire that. Well done!

    Thanks sharing,
    Wendy

    Like

  2. Hi Craig.

    The vivid images in this charming poem
    bring it to life for me.

    Love is still new and exciting
    and full of perceived firsts in the sand dunes.

    The senses of the young and in love
    make everything intensified.

    Much enjoyed.
    take care,
    Kerri

    Like

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