Shells

 

The conversation opened and closed 

Cold and blue as a mussel shell,

Despite the dancing fire 

That made the sand around us 

Flash like fireflies. 

But the sea salt scours us clean; 

A swim in the curving green swell 

Prises open enough to glimpse a gleam, 

A mutual love of the fold of arm through water, 

And the rhythm of breath matching waves; 

Naked in that tattooed ocean 

Two among many; 

A party brought to the lip of the land 

And kissed by the northern solstice.