Love's Tide

Becky invited me to spend

a day on her yacht

on a warm June afternoon.

The sun climbed above the horizon,

bathing the deck in golden light

and reflecting on the calm,

sparkling water.

The gentle breeze carried

the scent of salt and freedom,

making the moment feel truly

perfect as we drifted into open waters.

I had a rational fear

of drowning in a vast,

murky lake filled with a swirling

current of bass fish

and the pungent scent of saltwater

sent chills down my spine.

Love, in all its glory, enveloped me,

relentless and consuming,

tugging at my ankles,

threatening to drag me

beneath its depths.

Affection mingled with the dark

undertow of vulnerability,

seeking to drown me

in a whirlwind of emotions

that swirled around my heart.

I met Becky on a site for lonely hearts.

We hit it off and went off script,

finding solace in troubled waters.

We set sail.

The warm rays of sunlight streamed

steadily through the front window,

bouncing off the wood-grain walls.

Back home, riots surged through city streets.

Buildings burned, and wide-eyed

protesters firebombed police cars.

Becky stripped, and her clothes hit the floor,

and I followed suit. Naked to the eye.

Sink or swim; we’re both to blame.

In fleeting moments like these,

the warmth of love surged like a tide,

washing over lust.

By Andy Cooper

From: United States

X: AC0040