Pacifica by Dale Russell

Tonight she is calm.  As I walk the beach, I hear her breathe in hushed rhythms, her chest rising and falling, the moonlight shimmering on her body.  Tonight, her sultry whispers beckon me to enter her warm embrace.  But the situation is tenuous and her moods mercurial.  Tomorrow, or maybe even this evening, she may change her mind.  Without warning, she may anger and lash out at the moon or shout at the shore.  The stars may become her enemies, with ships and dolphins and me simply collateral damage.  Or she may fight with the wind in an impetuous tug-of-war.  She always wins.

Tonight, I accept her invitation.  I toss my clothes to the ground and feel the sand tickle my toes.  Headlong, I enter her, unable to resist her alluring caress and unwilling to fight.  She surrounds me.  Together we heave and pitch, up and down, in rhythm.  My mind drifts as I float in her salty limbs.  I have surrendered, and at her mercy, I survive.

error: This content is copyright protected.
%d bloggers like this: