Tuesday 200 - #32
Our best times were in the water.
Meeting in a summer rain. Two strangers on a quiet walk one misty afternoon. A thunderstorm comes from nowhere, as do peals of laughter. The park provides a private, puddle-stomping playground. Grown men find their inner children, along with the best friends those boys never had.
Sitting in a bath. Stripped bare yet at ease, our spirits light as Mr. Bubble’s caresses on our legs and chests. “Do you believe in destiny?” Smiles separated by a tub of soapy warmth, soaking in the gratitude of a chance (was it merely chance?) encounter.
Playing in the sea. Wresting with Speedos and trying not to be the first one naked. More laughter, more splashes, never enough salty kisses. Floating on our backs, swimsuits now bracelets, erections like sundials above our stomachs, time standing still under the warming sun.
Steaming away our doubts during hour-long showers. Washing each other’s hair. Finding new flaws in each others’ skin, each blemish making our bodies all the more perfect.
You made us dry off. Were those tears or just drops of water hanging on your cheek?
We were alive in the water.
Could growing gills have kept us together?
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