Sand struck

 

Last night’s silver ladder

has turned to golden stairs

tide crosses the boardwalk

we queue for sunset;

women hover like hummingbirds

skin sweet ,eyes sucking

beach boy’s barter

jet ski rides for kisses.

 

Each grain of sand

perfectly formed

like a mini universe

turned by the tide

stuck to my foot

carried home

to the cruel north

to burn me.

 

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