Winter. Dusk. The seaside. And I'm sitting here on these ice cold
pebbles beside you. The waves try to pound their path towards us,
fail, retreat, attack, fail, retreat, attack, fail, retreat, attack...
The beach is ours. For now anyway. Abandoned by the summer crowds with
their ice creams, buckets, soggy towels and freckles. Snuggle closer.
The stars pierce the heavy sackcloth curtain of sky with laser-beam
precision. Dazzling triumphant in the jet blackness of the advancing
night. Lay your head on my shoulder. The waves whisper and grumble as
they grind themselves into the shore. Fusing body of water with mass
of land.
Your hair falls soft against my face as the sea echoes in ripples
across the expanses to far off lands. We sit. We breath. We embrace.
The sea breeze brushes over the contours of your face, sweeping across
your nose, skimming over eyelids, kissing lips. And I think I'm happy.
More than happy. Sitting here. With you.
Posted by Helen