Indulging Conjecture

Pink sand pulls away
from the glistening shore
melting fondant in the
sticky heat
Minute  ecosystems inhabit
tiny  grottoes in  tide pools
of wet sand
Some days I stroll the coast alone
escaping into secret realms of lovers
where there is no logic but
an aching crush I hold to my breast
a passage between a heart and the
mountains where I left you
Allow me to come undone beneath
tender hands on eggshell
the gentle quake of a sigh upon your
unshaven cheek
Let me   drown in the green river of
your eyes where there
is no threat of war hard silence
or the burden of forgiveness