Shudder

In the green goop of the morning's tide
Lapping high onto the shore, my feet
Pressed deep and the bubbles rose like
Spittle and pooled around bare ankles.

She shuddered to think.

I shuddered to touch her bare shoulder.

The sun lay as a dollop on the sea;
My eyes burst from the bright sorbet.
A breeze came off the caps through my
Light linen button down, the fibres
Pressed to my chest.

I rolled the cuffs of my chinos
Above pale knees, the hair plastered
And hardened by dry-skin sea salt.

I walked alone along this morning
Kicking sand, returning driftwood
To drift back to shore, beached.

Trundling pipers fleeing the sweep
Of foam and the gull hovering looking
For the bread in my closed palm.

Green tendrilous weed swept with the
Washing water, like hair, like her's.
Like it was from the pool towards
The end of the time during which we touched.

Green tendrilous weed swept with the
Washing water, hair, like her's.
Like it was from the pool the summer
We touched

Like any good touch, it didn't last.
You didn't give me the chance to become
Bored. You cut me off while I was drunk,
Before vomit.