Solstice

The dock is wet, warm to the touch, and

we collapse at its edge

Freshly painted toes skimming the blue,

clusters of sunlight dancing upon its surface

as damp patches form on the denim 

plastered to the backs of our thighs

I reach into my bag,

pulling out two peaches and

passing you one

The juice drips down your chin and 

I wipe it away with a tentative thumb

Is this not enough?

This fruit, this sky,

This gentle touch

Leaning back, I close my eyes

The hot, white sun seeping through my eyelids

My body growing slow in the heat

Suddenly,

a deep splash, 

a mirthful scream

I open my eyes and and you beam up at me,

smiling and shiny and perfect

Not enough, I think

Everything