July

Dancing in a July afternoon, the sun veiled by a lazy white cloud,
casting gossamer shadows over your back, like the breath of angels.
Our swimsuits wet, our skin dry and flecked with white sand,
just as dancing to the wind and crashing waves, eternally restless.
Your head buried in my shoulder, my cheek, your hair silky soft.
I pull you tighter against me, as long as we’re alone, it’s alright.
July, almost gone, like the childhood that has sheltered us,
and the sweetness that made the mermaids sing to us.
Their is the crunch of gravel, the dull hum of an engine.
They’ve come home, the moment is over, I kiss your head.
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