Friday, August 31, 2007

The Voyeur

They were lovers.
Anyone could tell.

stroking each other's limbs with oil
careful on every curve
more oil than was necessary
more stroking than was essential

hair shining blonde and dark
breasts teasing colored strings
whispered words against soft faces
a furtive kiss on a pale shoulder

umberellas hot pink, lime green
popsicle orange, every blue in the sea or sky

I brush the sand from my ankles and sip
the rusty sweetness
from a paper cup
of warm Coca-Cola.

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