—a Sestina of one night shared with our sister moon

 

Night’s first blush leans low against the tide

that licks the sand; moonlight unhooks the darker seams of our skin.

The air stings sweet, crystalline breath of salt.

A feral moon, she leans close—silent, luminous, wet.

Her breasts dip the water; the water dips us—oh…slow pull

after slow pull—silk unraveling into constellations—we are, at last, bare

 

bare-foot, bare-hearted, bare-assed—every hush of fear laid bare;

satin chill a caress, sliding up shins, over knees, exploring the secret tide.

Between us, dampness trembles—a harp-chord plucked across our skin;

notes of brine flare and fade in the hush of moonlit salt

Desire itself echoes each pull she tightens—loosens—tightens again in the moon’s slow, intimate pull.

 

Night after night we bend to nature’s lust—its intimate pull

a deep, slow kiss—honey for dreams, our spirits once more bare

on a starlit shore that forgets and remembers the faithful tide

that knows each breast, each soft fold of skin

until our footprints shimmer, then vanish in a tidal pool of salt

while water’s slow tempo keeps time beneath our same bare-breasted, sister moon

 

Brine prisms drip between our thighs—soft, shimmering salt

as we sink into sand—breasts and breath—utterly bare;

above us, the hush of waves keeps time with the tide

while our sister, the voyeur moon, unbuttons herself—O luminous moon,

her silver hand wandering, circling, stroking her own pale skin,

her gasps spilling down to embrace us oh so tight into one, shuddering, pull

 

Dawn’s silk-white wraps moon-bruised breasts, gathering the last flecks of salt

that cling to lips—a hush of spent sighs riding every slow pull

of breath. Ocean-wet, sunrise-warmed, we rise wholly bare

beneath a sky tinted with our spent, satisfied sister moon,

and wade until cries of ecstasy between waves swell, matching the tide

washing footprints, sand, and shy shimmers from our glistening skin.

 

We become as one, a shared pulse—wave after wave pressing into skin,

A sousing of honey and ocean on lips—sweet with salt,

as night’s last breaker swells, arches, cups—one unquenchable pull

before it raptures. We bloom wide, throats singing, utterly bare

of nothing but vision of her white-hot spasm, our sister moon,

dragging us under—flinging us back—gasping—embraced by the heaving tide

 

O sister moon,

embrace our last slow tide,

your gentle hand forever filling our dreams, forever caressing our skin