Seafoam
An atypical weekend by the seaside,
drenched in sun and frivolity,
in froth and foam,
a destination rarely explored
by one who prefers moonlight and mist.
Stepping into the artificial cool and artificial sterility
of a public toilet,
my eyes dazzled by chrome and gleaming cerulean tiles.
I heard staccato footsteps
and apprehended your deep-set eyes.
In your face of freshness and secrecy,
of cleverness and melancholy,
tenderness was slashed by your story, my story:
I saw it. You saw it too.
My lips parted, but only too late.
A robust weekender barreled in with his green-tinged offspring,
valiantly removing vomit and vanilla cream.
For people like us,
the reaction is ingrained.
We'd been discovered.
You turned. I turned.
You walked. I walked.
And I never saw you again.
of a public toilet,
my eyes dazzled by chrome and gleaming cerulean tiles.
I heard staccato footsteps
and apprehended your deep-set eyes.
In your face of freshness and secrecy,
of cleverness and melancholy,
tenderness was slashed by your story, my story:
I saw it. You saw it too.
My lips parted, but only too late.
A robust weekender barreled in with his green-tinged offspring,
valiantly removing vomit and vanilla cream.
For people like us,
the reaction is ingrained.
We'd been discovered.
You turned. I turned.
You walked. I walked.
And I never saw you again.
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