About

sand through my toes. dry, warm sand, soft and sliding. my feet wriggle deeper into that exquisite heat. i'm laying back in the camping chair. its metal legs are deeply embedded in the loose white sand. slightly tilted back. my neck rests on the backrest of canvas. it forms a perfect little hammock for my head. everything is warm. not hot. just warm. like toast on a cold morning. like a hot water bottle when there is frost on the car window outside. like your shirt you gave me to put on after you’d worn it. i feel the sand on top of my feet and the rays caressing my shins and my knees. my knee caps are glowing. i love it. i rest my hands on my thighs and they are cooler than the skin on my legs. this makes my arms break out in goose bumps. the sea breeze stirs and the sun once more continues to snuggle up. i can feel her exploring my throat and i touch the skin there with the back of my hand. cooler hands too. hollows seem to become warmer than anywhere else. back of knees, inside elbows and the hollow of my throat. i keep my eyes closed against the sun. my lids are warm; i feel my cheeks toasting in pleasure. even my hair feels sunny. this is well-being by temperature and it makes me heavy with sun satisfaction. i lift my lids and for a few seconds the sky before my eyes is a silvery gold as my pupils adjust to the light. the guava juice is thick and red and the ice makes white rectangular squares in the thickness. i don't like wide straws but in this pulpy juice it is perfect. i take the longest sip and the mealy liquid tastes like an icy stream. i am so thirsty. i place the goblet on the cooler. the breakers are frisky and energetic. the sun is straight ahead of me. i lean back and prop my neck into its place in my chair. moving my bum down i stretch out my legs. i extend my arms as far as i can along the arm rests and turn my wrists outward. the insides are pale. i wait for the sun to make love to my face . i feel her already busy with the rest of my body while
  • Location:
    africa
  • Joined:
    3 years ago

Reading Lists

dedications1
200 stories
FUN!!!
94 stories

20 Published Works

Featured work.

parallaxis

Social data: 3.5K reads. 698 votes. 746 comments.

Description: parallaxis parallax /ˈpærəˌlæks/ noun 1. an apparent change in the position of an object resulting from a change in position of the observer 2. an apparent shift in the position of an object, such as a star, caused by a change in the observer's pos...

#46 in Poetry

Other Works by seasofme.
that japanese poetry

that japanese poetry

3.6K 563 606

a place for all that japanese poetry i love so much and plan to write lots of

of zebras

of zebras

28K 1.8K 1.9K

of zebras - the love collection here, when i say i never want to be without you, somewhere else i am...

oceanswing

oceanswing

307K 2.9K 2.6K

i know who i am. and i know who i do not want to be. i am easy in my own skin even while i struggle. i a...

love letters from ruby

love letters from ruby

30.8K 1.1K 1.6K

One cannot always tell what it is that keeps us shut in, confines us, seems to bury us, but still one fe...

seasofme commented on parallaxis - the dreamwords


seasofme
@AliceMorris7 , i put them on my mobile in the middle of the night... @insanelife_ , yes, like that exactly. thank you for reading. @AdannaArt , this is so interesting; seems everyone gets something else from this. i love it! makes me think too. @ShannonKellie , i sometimes can coax things out. what i'm writing about here, seems like the opposite of what usually happens. i think i confused myself here too. i was thinking of two different scenarios but wrote only the one. now i'm totally confused and nervous about what that line says to u, haha! i'm so insecure sometimes... damn.  ;; @schmeelko , lost and retrieved, only to become lost once more. i think u have said here what i thought i experienced. thank you, schmeelko, i love seeing u make an appearance. thank you.
seasofme commented on Freefall - The Maid of Zennor


seasofme
i quite liked the idea of the maid of zennor! but i'm glad the poet did not listen to her... after all, she could never compete with a good cigarette, ever. 
      
      the refrain of the cigarette is so effective and memorable. this is my type of poem. i love it. what a perfect entry into this new collection. i so look forward to the rest. :)))