Tidal
Bare feet on white sands;
White skies, white trees.
Watching as rolling foams
Creep in gentle tributaries,
Washing blue beneath naked heels.
The first wave: gentle touch,
Tender as inquisitive hands.
Withdrawing. Testing.
Before returning once more,
Embracing unknown skin.
Such mysteries lie
Beneath shallow-deep,
Where no sight sees,
Or stone skips,
Or hands rest.
Aquatic embrace,
Powerful, yet reserved;
Veiled in beauty,
Sirenic calls that beat the sand,
Kissing beneath the soul.
Bare feet on white sands;
Paddling in the surge of the tide,
Exploring the fraction of an infinite.
Skin comforted in warmer waters,
To depart to return again.
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