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Island Lullaby
a plastic
lounge chair
for two, sizzling under
island sun and
sweltering gazebos.
a voice had never
tasted so sweet
on my lips, nor
hands so exhilarating
exploring my calves.
lazily sleeping
pressed up against
blue nylon netting
burning motives
into my thighs.
i drift perilously
to siestas,
de la tarde,
la playa,
you say, the words
comparable to
ecstasy as your
fingers gasp for
mine.
the ocean lulls us
into late afternoon,
sand encrusting
our tender skin
like mummies.
hanging on so
securely to your
harmonious
heart strings that
belt lyrics that
captivate me,
accompanying the
swaying palms
and foamy tides.
hazy, happy,
drunk on your
lips that roam
collarbones and
fingers that pry
through my
salty, sea-sewn
locks of blond thread,
tickling faces in
the blissful wind.
in the shady
daydream, i
lived a paradise
that only exists
when you are around.
otherwise, i
am left colorless;
left to tie weights
to ankles,
sink, and drown.
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