Salt Air by Robert Porter Copyrighted September 26th, 1997 Dark yields to light Hugging the sea, gray and white. Low clouds obscures sight. The wind howls fury and might. The surf assaults, then retreats. It never halts. Salt mist and rain beats. I reach out my hand. Of your next step you plan. Your grip is wet with a few grains of sand. A gentle pull, beside me you land. The cold rain soaks our ponchos. Hoods over our heads Alittle drop rolls down your nose. I hope you like to where I have led. Waves crash into the rocks below. The oceans ebb and flow. Wind blows and buffets. On folds of our clothes the rain collects. My hands take yours. I hear silence as the ocean roars. From beneath the hood I seek your eyes. You give me the sweetest of replies. Closer, I lean in. Our hoods give way. My lips touch your skin. I taste the salt spray. I feel your face tighten. Your mouth curves into a smile. Lips touch, senses heighten. A kiss, warm and tender, wind is blowing all the while. Hands find shelter beneath. Skin, warm and tender. Nerves tingle, beyond belief. Arms embrace tightly, kissing deeper. Slowly I retreat. Looking into eyes on fire. Our trail back is quickly beat. To our bed, still unmade, we retire.
Reason for writing:
A morning I spent once
Birth sign: Not entered
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