the return of the sun
my beach blanket smells of lake plants and sun.
I never knew I had a beach blanket
in these years of body shame
and black and white images
from a life I did not want photographed.
now I live in colour
and the whole world smells like sunshine dried clothing
and tastes like orange freezies
or the seductive taste of sweet strawberries
the juices of both,
running down my chin in dribbles,
reminding me of you
and your sweetness.
Now I live in colour
and all I want is to feel the sun on my skin
and smell the heat of the day near water,
fill my head with reggae,
and read a library of books
from the warm sands of some local beach.
I want to live Baudelaire by sunset,
whispering his words,
French and all,
to the swooping bats
to a beautiful, receptive lover
who will then take me in his arms
and love me to collapse under the Milky Way –
our naked, blessed bodies
glistening by starlight to show us what we are truly made of.
Now that I feel alive and loved,
I need to taste the sun so often it burns my tongue
so that my words are fire when I speak them
or your mouth ignites when I kiss you
or you burst into flames when I take you in my mouth.
I have walked too oft in the shadows these past years,
Now it is time to walk in the sun.
R. L. Elke
©Aug 5/17 prompt 23