Tuffs of white meet where the sky kisses the sea, like limbs
pressed against each other, exposed in the blatant light of day, engaged in an
act routinely saved for the depths of night, the moorings of the harbor moaning
as the tide rises and falls, this kiss as deep as the sea itself, and as
mysterious, we unable to feel the intensity at this distance, and yet feel the
passion as the sea sends its expired waves to our feet, foam flowing over the smoldering
sand where I stand, the tuffs of sky and sea clinging to each other, a desperate
act, a brief glimpse of eternity they may never experience again, and we,
feeling each thrust as if all this happens to us or perhaps we wishing it had, in
broad daylight or night.
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