Cicadas thrum,
their golden net a hammock for memories of summer.
Walls of foam flecked water
Rising seductively,
their glassy beauty luring me
into depths of moiling sand and water,
the rough sex embrace of a dumper,
ferociously rolling, throwing, tumbling me
Until we crash together onto the shore.
Sodden and disoriented.
Sand in every crevice.
Saltiness stinging gloriously.
Sprawling like lovers
Now disentangled,
Spent, panting and hungry for more.
The ebb and flow of it
A comforting continuum of eternality.
The sea, like the wind,
no beginning or end.
