cinnamon bronze

maybe it’s the colour of sex

skin on a sunny beach
up close and sweaty
sun lotion the perfume
and the taste on my lips

dash into breaking waves
sand shifting underfoot
gliding into a slap soft landing
sliding skewed onto heroship

everything is close up
all myopic macrocosm
glossy warm lips
hot quick breath

and sand in everything

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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