fireflies flicker
along the edge of the bay
water reflecting light


sun casting shadows
stretching across the white sand
the bay streaked with red


crisp sun-scented sheets

rasping gently across my

Tender sun-crisped skin


I brew you coffee-

your hand motions, stop pouring

at only half cup;

deliberately you add

until all you taste is cream.

what I should have said

two glasses of wine
fingertip skimming your lips
mine part to whisper


Burrowed in blankets

Eyes squinched shut against the light

The scent of bacon

a long night

on the edge of sleep

even crickets are silent

window fan drones on

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