Your hands and your knee hurt, but my momentum carries us both to the ground, the wet sand this time, the waves’ edge not far away. Each twist and wrench of our thrashing bodies digs a divot in the beach. Each new surge together brings the incoming tide closer.
I mount you, straddling your waist, and push the side of your face into the mix of grit and shells, the last reach of the tumbling swells twirling your hair, pulling it as it receds, as if the sea wants to drag you away....