To the sea they will go
Run their fingers along the coast
The waters mild
The stones are calm but sharp
A swim is what they want
So they speak of how the beach is
The ocean’s spray
cools long tanning bodies
They do not concur though
He explained “your radiance radiates
the beach with your beauty”
She, thinks him crazy
Till warmed sand grips them
They hold each other
to not fall over
“You’re burning red” he insisted
You’re wet yet dry?”
relayed his nerves pressed against her body
“What are you made?” he asked, interrupted
Sand congregates further up their legs
Then glass treks torsos
Up from chest onto face till
Everything became ebony glazed
Clarity of sky returned instantly by night
they, washing trauma in the water,
she, submerged then resurfaced
With a new tassel
A new edge to cut with
new smile and topless
She laughed, then splashed
She, the sea’s accomplice
Aqua blue with a green pokka-dotted fin
De Largo Haleine 