Member-only story
No One’s Port
We hold hands, as a hint for what’s to come.
We hike, we resort to the wilderness of heart.
We splash, and forget what’s to see or to look for, some fish caress rocks or the other way around, seaweed make things tangible.
The highness of the Mediterranean, depths have found what we humans lost.
Fingers not crossed for luck but for love, not for love as we know it.
But something refreshing, something something.
Between these rocks, there is some kids play objects we collect and throw against, sorry not against but with the sun's rays, reflecting at the right angle to look at things.
We kissed each other sexually, but the friendship was the real magnet we came for.
A little port we called home for tonight, for the 3rd time in this short lifetime.
I bless you, for your curiosity and loneliness too.
It rhymes with lioness, which you are.
Your hair is wet, but your makeup was needed for me to see your beauty. A sprinkle of salt that’s all. Sand between your toes, you put on my clean sheets but I don’t mind some dirt since you’re not perfect, but I prefer you raw. Port’s princess is fairytale crap I don’t purchase anymore Luis Viton, goodbye.
I was never looking.
Now let’s drown in what’s left, this anchor.
Is firm but rolling with the waves of these emotions.
Privileged to listen, and act accordingly.
My friend, my little port.
