Navel Longings

The heat weighs the air down.. down... it say shoosh~ it seemed to steam as it wafted from white sand to damp the blue skies. Long green frond's stir the scene mint in a julep glass. Quiet invades each opened pore at high noon as the froth of salt foam caresses toes and hollows the sand beneath somnambulant sun worshipers. Gulls circle in silence as beads of sweat roll from forehead between the mounds of Aphrodite... into the navel of longing. *Woman God's gift to man