Seven-o-one

The sea laps kittenish around my legs
In whirlpools that lift the white sand.
A green bottle eclipse trickles cold dregs,
Gripped tight by strong bronzed brown hand.

Wide smiling pushes eyes amidst wrinkles
Behind stylish golden-rimmed shades.
Pulsing hot air pricks skin to a tingle
That skitter the body and fade.

Fine white linen shorts frame a rich brown band
That matches a fine linen shirt.
Turning sloth-happy to face the island,
A squat wooden hut, palm tree girt.

Long leaves sway boozy in the languorous air,
Companions in afternoon haze.
Rippling to shore, a mind empty of cares,
Sipping on life’s sweet lemonade.

A women’s long form of feline allure
With eyes that throw ocean-lit sparks,
Draped heavy with sun, laid flat and demure,
The air fills with her tinkling laugh.

But drawing nearer to a beckoning
Embrace, clarity starts to fade;
As morning light pries shut red eyes stinging.
All dreams are cast into the shade.

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