A sunset breeze, dyed in ocean potpourri. I’m tentative, hesitant; you’re confident, devil-may-care. The breeze whips your hair – that is brown like a mahogany chair. That’s probably not the best association, but your hair is mousy – your eyes a bit too large. But you’re gorgeous to me; a perfectly framed photograph. We kiss; its great. I can feel the sand on your lips, your hand on the back of my head. I’m inexperienced. I can tell you know. My lips are covered in your lipstick, they’re sandy now. You laugh, doe-like and look towards the ocean. A man is fishing, the towel you laid out for us to sit on is all bit useless in this wind. I look up; the sky is pastel: blue, pink, yellow, white – all the colors. I look to you and you’re crying. What did I do? Is it supposed to go like this? You say it’s nothing – too soon – and the moment breaks like a wave.

Written in April 2017.

B

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