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.