Your Eyes

When I woke up, the sun was getting ready to lay down with the horizon on their bed of liquid fire. Perhaps it was the feeling of the warm water from the gentle waves under my bare skin lifting me up ever so slightly with each push to the shore that woke me up. Or perhaps it was the early warning of dread that the impending night brings. I look to my side and you lay next to me with eyes closed, a thin veil of wet sand clinging to your naked curves. I lay silently, watching, absorbing the sounds of the quiet around us, hoping that reality would sink back into me, but I just couldn't remember how long we had laid there on the beach or how we came to be there.

I turn towards you, to study your familiar face. Streaks of wet raven hair on your forehead and cheeks, moist intertwined eyelashes adorned with a few grains of sand that sparkled in the low red light, your lips parted ever so slightly. My eyes linger on your lips, memories of kisses suffusing a warmth deep inside me. Your neck, your beautiful neck that I had made love to with my kisses and with my ballooning desire so many times. I reach out to gently caress your neck with my fingers, tracing its length and then down to your high breasts. I am drawn to you, physically pulled towards you. I fight the urge and instead bend forward to put my lips close to your ear and whisper, "I don't know what the night will bring, my love."

I see your eyelids flutter, the rapid rise and fall of your sand crusted breasts as your breathe sharply and struggle to wake up. I hold your hand.

When you wake up, you turn towards me and reach out to caress my face. There on the beach, we lay on our sides facing each other and explored each others eyes silently.

In the last rays of the dying sun you whisper, "Your eyes. Why do your eyes show you things that do not exist?"