Us
Huge waves of fore and after-play.
Sexual crests crashed
into willing shores.
We slept snuggled together
like puppies.
Rocking back and forth
on the top of a coastal cliff,
swaying over
a crooked front axle -
risky for an old Austin Mini,
with a corroded floor.
Memory rusts,
yet it was us
for a while.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2022
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