Love at high noon upon a beach
Again the sun got in between their loves,
again the sea circled them when they hugged,
again it was high hot noon,
again it was blue glass sea.
Her lips the sun had burnt before he kissed
and wet the cracks with his tongue.
He wanted to hold the umbrella over their heads,
but she wanted a threesome with the sun.
A man watched them from the car
parked on the road skirting the beach;
he wore a dark glass when he returned his gaze.
She didn’t see the line-broken kite overhead;
her face was buried in his breast.
He closed his eyes breathing her scent;
the waves withdrew into a desert.
Lovers On The Beach -- Stephen Conway
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