The dock is wet, warm to the touch, and
we collapse at its edge
Freshly painted toes skimming the blue,
clusters of sunlight dancing upon its surface
as damp patches form on the denim
plastered to the backs of our thighs
I reach into my bag,
pulling out two peaches and
passing you one
The juice drips down your chin and
I wipe it away with a tentative thumb
Is this not enough?
This fruit, this sky,
This gentle touch
Leaning back, I close my eyes
The hot, white sun seeping through my eyelids
My body growing slow in the heat
Suddenly,
a deep splash,
a mirthful scream
I open my eyes and and you beam up at me,
smiling and shiny and perfect
Not enough, I think
Everything
Comentarios