Table waiting to receive me
Naked I lay on my breasts
I can still feel the heat of the
Sun, ever so slightly its setting
its looks unclear on the horizon
Over the beach
Whether its the dews traveling in the low hanging, heavy heated air of this afternoon day or its sand blowing across the
Deserted chairs........
There are no tired muscles to weave
Just the pulsating aliveness of my skin as it awakens to the senses of the oil
Monks chant as I watch people ever so close at the bar...yet all so separate....
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