You are the ocean’s kiss
their ride across surf, the cascade
of refracting prisms, the luminescence
of dawn – under skin you receive
unconditional love; a perfect creature
of rose-white complexion.
In the depths of your water-world
your fingers grasp, flick, ready
to unfurl. Sea-horses spin, faeries hover,
as you ride the dolphin’s back – your parents‘ wish.
You blow big bubbles in a quick-
fired stream, chase them as they travel
the crazy-paved path. The breeze whisks
them into an eggshell sky, up, up, they float
and rise – much taller than you. You construct
a play den from chairs, blankets, bricks and twigs.
A net curtain for the door. Open Sesame – to get in.
You start to wonder why the earth is flat,
when also it is round. If you could ever fall
off. You play on, without sound.
You move in symmetrical ways across
a luscious green lawn, grass blades strong,
early summer. Now he’s the doctor, you’re the nurse—
scene shift—now he’s the sheriff and you’re the squaw,
others characters now peripheral.
He circles you, his eyes molten, unlike eyes you’ve seen
before. You run, you fire..one, two, three.
He escape the arrows. His eyes, his eyes, oh, oh his eyes,
how they never leave. His lasso catches you,
all is slow motion – your first kiss.
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Photo courtesy of Public Domain Pictures.