19

If we were to sit, it would be in the sun.

Resting on the soft grass, eyes closed, nestled under the shade of the palms.

Feet from the scolding sand, we listen as the waves crash.

The breeze is salty but the air is sweet.

Blindly, I reach to find you.

Despite the heat, the soft curves of your hand find a home in mine.

All that we know is unwaivering peace.