The Dom In Me

Fine sand like tiny pearls glisten in the sunlight
the waves crash
a diagonal rush of roaring sound

the water laps at painted toenails
for a moment I'm jealous of the sea wishing I could lick your silky thigh

but for now we walk along the beach
sandpipers scurry on toothpick legs
gulls cry out across the salty air From the poem “Fine Sand”