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