Bermuda Daydreams

When she crossed her legs, an electric silk slipped over the jewel-studded sides of a blushing chameleon. Sand clung to her thighs, a tapestry of flaxen crumbs on amber skin. Thigh orientated beguilements spread their plush landscapes. Her shoulders were disrespectful – I liked that. The massed pipes and drums of her braided hair marched out of sight - muted instruments of mutual destruction. I imagined an emerald turtle born from a native legend lived in her watchful heart. I was alone for a thousand years drinking her inward. I wanted to ask her but what? I guessed that whatever her answer, there would be no sign of small pink wings and cutesy fairy smiles. Besides it was then she looked my way with that cool ‘-you’ stare. When I got back alone to the hotel, not having said a word to her, I looked at my reflected sun-slapped face, it was as unstable as dry sand, yet the syllabary of her thighs had so much more to say as my face fell apart onto the wet floor-tiles. © a day ago