In darkness
I dream that
my bare feet are
touching your body
like Crusoe wandering an island.
We lie naked on hot sand
listening to surf massage a flat shoreline,
tantalizing foam rushes up, then retreats.
A moored rowboat creaks from the wind
while the sun dries out beached seaweed and
bakes ocean scent to our salty skin.
I lick your firm belly
and taste the ocean.
Pressing my mouth to your face
I hold your bulging lip
between my teeth, savoring its tenderness.
And you lie passively until
I rub my forehead against
you stallion-like.
Our rhythm jives with
proliferating Pacific waves.
We wrestle as does a live fish on dry dock.
A pleasure pinnacle, we fall and glide
amidst seagull sounds.
Jonathan Porter is a writer who lives in Clarksburg, Maryland. He has been writing poems for over 30 years. He lived in Kenya for 14 years. His work is original and unpublished. He is married, plays tennis, and teaches Latin. Jonathan Porter 7/30/26