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Touching your skin is

the final definition

of elation.

The sun is touching my face

with the grace

of a lover’s laugh.

We’re sitting on the shore,

with our limbs entwined

as if they never knew how to grow apart.

We’re touching each other as if

we’ve known each other

our entire lives.

Our memories are touching time

when we realize we couldn’t forget

the sun as it danced on our brows.

We couldn’t possibly forget

the perfection of nature,

the idyllic tone of love.

We could forget the harshness,

we could wipe away the memory

of any hatred.

It is possible to relinquish the pain

in favor of more sugar,

a lick of ice cream on your lips.

The sweetness is overwhelming,

and the sun above our love is scorching,

but I feel comforted by your nearness.