Picasso in the Sand

We lay in the sand, intertwined.

The bustle of the waves is calming.

It creeps up the shore steadily.

Finally here, it washes over us,

as if to cleanse me of my sins.

 

You look over and smile,

your bright green eyes glistening

in the early morning light.

Your freckles dance across your nose,

as if saying to one another

‘Catch me if you can!’

 

You scoot towards me

and plant a kiss on my cheek.

For the first time,

I blush beneath the beaming sun.

I crook my finger

and you move even closer.

 

I sit up and straddle you.

I pin your arms above your head,

and kiss you passionately.

We do not make love,

we make beauty.

 

Our relationship is not about

sexual harmony or pleasure.

It is about our hearts beating,

synchronized.

 

We become one in the sand.

I kiss every inch of your body.

You run your fingers

through my messy hair.

 

I rest my head on your chest.

The pulse of your heart

sounds like a soft piccolo.

Together in this very moment,

nothing else matters.

 

I am Picasso,

and you are my masterpiece.

I recognize nothing

but the intense beauty

radiating off of your skin.

 

For now,

let me paint your body

with all my love.

Lay in the sand and be my canvas.

I will shower you

with all the passion

I am able to give.