Wednesday, April 03, 2013

Degree of Exposure

when the tide lapped our feet
hungry for the salt off our skin
we woke

we pulled away from each other
despite the resistance from our bodies
sticking with sweat

outlined in sudden white against your chest
my hand, fingers splayed too short, grasping
you looked, laughed

then traced a stinging line across my neck
the dips and ridges of your face branded
must mean more