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Island Lullaby

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a plastic

lounge chair

for two, sizzling under

island sun and

sweltering gazebos.

a voice had never

tasted so sweet

on my lips, nor

hands so exhilarating

exploring my calves.

lazily sleeping

pressed up against

blue nylon netting

burning motives

into my thighs.

i drift perilously

to siestas,

de la tarde,

la playa,

you say, the words

comparable to

ecstasy as your

fingers gasp for


the ocean lulls us

into late afternoon,

sand encrusting

our tender skin

like mummies.

hanging on so

securely to your


heart strings that

belt lyrics that

captivate me,

accompanying the

swaying palms

and foamy tides.

hazy, happy,

drunk on your

lips that roam

collarbones and

fingers that pry

through my

salty, sea-sewn

locks of blond thread,

tickling faces in

the blissful wind.

in the shady

daydream, i

lived a paradise

that only exists

when you are around.

otherwise, i

am left colorless;

left to tie weights

to ankles,

sink, and drown.

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