Skinny Dip Poem by Thomas McKelvey

Barefoot, toes pointed skyward like heels in sand,
she gathers her hair, twists it in a simple command.
Backwards she walks, the ocean vast and cool,
pale waves like ghosts beneath the moon's soft rule.

Half-circles traced, a silent, playful plea,
my heart a drum against my ribs, hesitant, free.
A laugh, a whisper, lost on the ocean's breath,
a smile both playful and fraught with gentle death.

Clothes shed in a flash, a fleeting, moonlit show,
she turns and runs, headlong into the gentle flow.
A glance back, a challenge, a silent, shimmering dare,
inhibitions lower than the moonlit air.

She splashes, water flung, a feline beckoning call,
and I, a moth to the flame, answer freedom's thrall.
Fortunate fool, I chase her laughter's gleam,
losing myself in the reckless, moonlit stream.