Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Pouilly Fuisse

We have spent the day at the beach
(my lover—my mistress—my paramour)
our towels merely feet from the tide
as close as we can get is what we want

We lay side by side and fall asleep
(the heat—the sounds—the mist)
the tides creep closer to our slumber
bodies paralyzed by liquid dreams

Washing out to sea with no cares
(divorce—family feuds—sunburns)
floating on the  endless sea grass
we finally crack open the Pouilly Fuisse

Drink my love, drink
and I will drink to thee

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