To be washed ashore














As a wave
I’m tasting you
so soft and salt
and around your cheeks
the wave breakers
are colouring as evening red.

Drowning
in your neck’s curve
I let you guide my night
by low and higher tide.

We smell as sea
and pumping blood
caresses waves apart
until next morning
closes them again
so satisfied.

© Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere

08/11/2014

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