Crowd surfing above your peers
You're a discarded pair of angel wings
Whose raised veins reveal
Through pastel washes of seaweed green
Sun lit geometries of cathedrals

After supper, the resistance of bone
Beyond sweat soaked skin.
Greased with Piddock trails and wine
Our mouths slide over our lips
And we both fell into the night time

Stopping to kiss and grope
Leaving our food stained handprints
Glowing, like stars on warm walls
Our constellation followed us home
Where our bed cushioned our fall

Later, our hands and mouth
Too busy to leave clear impressions
Left a light show of love making
Left the flesh of the shell
So the minerals could return to surfing.

Ode To The Piddock

Sea FoodNaPoWriMo