Our Beach Trip- Jaime Colley

By Jaime Colley

We’re craving sun kissed skin 

Like we’ve been pregnant with summer  

All of winter.  

 

The sand puckers 

Where pipis lay nestled underneath. 

We chase the kisses on the sand, 

Hands and knees, 

Forefingers raw from digging up the shells 

Before cracking them open on reels,  

Pulling the muscle away 

And winding it onto the hook, 

The puckers in the sand now 

Looking like French kisses.  

 

And as the sun dips behind the horizon,  

The final rays glaze the shore in gold,  

Until the moon paints the waves 

Silver.  

A new day will start,  

A wild concoction  

Which tastes more exotic than the last.  

 

But for her, the days blend together,  

Like ocean waves gently 

Smoothing out the shore.  

Her mind indenting footsteps into the sand  

Instants before the peak wave in high tide 

Washes across the beach 

And just like that,  

The shore is wiped clean 

 

And the kisses in the sand,  

Are now long-lost loves,  

That went missing out at sea.  

 

But six months later,  

We’ll walk with her  

Past the park.  

We’re back to our dull reality,  

Where the thought of Summer 

Is already pitted in our bellies,  

Cravings beginning to stir.  

 

We will talk about our beach trip,  

Like an inside joke to her 

But when we walk past the playground  

And she sees the uneven sand,  

She will tug me on the shoulder and say,  

 

There are pipis there.  

Liam Blair
Liam Blair
Articles: 34

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