Beach Ballad
When she crossed her legs,
electric silk
slipped over thigh orientated beguilements.
Her shoulders were disrespectful.
The massed pipes and drums
of her braided hair played upon my mind.
I was alone for a thousand years
drinking her in.
I wanted to ask her
but what?
Besides it was then she looked my way
with a cool ‘muck-you’ stare.
Back at the hotel,
my reflected sun-slapped face,
seemed as unstable as sand,
yet the syllabary of her thighs
had so much more to say to me.
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