Paradisaical

I race against your glinting rapids,
twisting and turning
like a salt shaker
defining gravity.

Your freckles—little pebbles
erode these dubious clouds of mine,
chasing faint memories and wasted time.

While we’re here—tumbled onto fine sands,
life doesn’t get in our faces,
only love flickers.

We could obliterate loose happenings,
and place bets on a future
that oozes lucid uncertainty.

And we could touch each other’s waterfalls,
streaming down our gleeful eyelids.
Press kisses on boulders,
chiseled earth chunks.

Because I know soon I’ll submerge
in your salty debris,
sun-covered wreckage
beach, so

no boat will salvage us.

Not in a million light years.

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