Cresting waves

Thinking of you last summer

Tan and wet, with a glow in your eyes

Sitting on the bridge that goes into the beach

The dry smell of wet wood 

The waves cresting against your legs

When laying in the bedroom

With the windows open

My face on your chest

Tan, dry, with granules of sand

Sharing a warm shower

Pulling the tight bikini off

Hold me tight, 

'Cause I am wet and grainy