Pushing my feet under cool sand
I breathe in the salty breeze
Exhales from the waves in front of me
Crash...crash
Poseidon orchestrates his symphony
Crash...crash
White foam walks close to my toes
As I sink deeper into an old beach chair
I slide my thumb over its wooden armrest
Feeling its grooves
I let my arm fall to the sand
Rubbing each grain between my fingers
A deep breath of that salty breeze swims through my lungs
The skies paint pictures of clean white
Clouds eat the sun
My skin feels the air cooling
It's not a perfect day
Doesn't need to be
Crash...crash
What a lovely sound
She hears what I hear, sitting in a beach chair next to mine
I put my hand on her armrest
Feel the same grooves
I lock my fingers with hers
Hers are sandy too
Today is a perfect day