Posted on Sunday, 26 April 2009

four of us huddled in our homemade alcoholic haze, made more beautiful by the days end reflected in the sea. seaweed and sand floating by. sound of the sea and your laugh around me. jeans underneath me, rough wood beneath them— and a body below. who of us could know Fire Island sands cradled more than just our joy. he was no boy beneath us, but a man— slow and smiling, welling up like a wave. strangers on a strange night drifting together briefly. and the seaweed slowly. sweetly. receeding.|Aran|

four of us huddled in our homemade alcoholic haze, made more beautiful by the days end reflected in the sea. seaweed and sand floating by. sound of the sea and your laugh around me. jeans underneath me, rough wood beneath them— and a body below. who of us could know Fire Island sands cradled more than just our joy. he was no boy beneath us, but a man— slow and smiling, welling up like a wave. strangers on a strange night drifting together briefly. and the seaweed slowly. sweetly. receeding.
|Aran|

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