PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Sand pushes between my toes

And makes my steps awkward

Yet to you I must go,

holding my big hat

Against the wind,

which whips my salt-crusted hair

To you I must go,

laughing

You boy

You playful, bare-chested,

sunburnt boy

With the blue trunks

that show your thighs

The cool wind

Flipping your curly hair off your face

And squinting against the white sun

With that devil's smile

Bare feet covered in sand 

You shield your eyes

And look at me

Do boys mean to, when they do that? 

Suddenly become marble statues, though living? 

Too beautiful for words and alluring

More potent than any sculpture or scripture

My true religion is a boy with curly hair,

And there's no art higher

Than a pretty boy

mostly undressed 

Barefoot in the sun

To you I must run

To make me crazy, I accuse you

Your beauty for me to consume

Those red bikini girls down the way

Don't look at them! 

Only me

I fall on your chest and you catch me

You brush the hair from my face

While the waves lap our ankles

But don't kiss me yet

Let this linger, you hungry boy

Still

I am nervous

There is war far away, terrible war 

To take you from me

And put you in harm's way 

Yet for now I rest in you

On the noon beach in Florida

Where gulls cry--

More than the number of waves

Do I love you

And that night, after we're done

in the cabana

The sea breeze unfolding the linen curtains

Like glowing moth wings

You'll get up to close the doors

Naked in the moonlight which paints you blue 

Backlit by stars and galaxies swirling

And I'll be moved

To confess to you, "I am magic."  

And grow a flower in my palm to prove it

To your disbelieving eyes 

Huddled together, 

In a tent made from the sheets

Draped over our heads

It will be a glowing white lily

Like the spring

Of our pleasure

But unlike us

it shall live

forever