You are waiting there at the beach.
Testing the water with one hand.
The phone in the other no one texting.
Ready to speak if you are a new G string.
I am behind you one dune over the mound.
Under the tree in your mind by the wind.
Beneath the open sky under the moon
With one finger and then two suddenly three.
I turn slowly but to quickly away.
Between a baby crying gull marks the waves.
The news paper that held warm fish and chips.
I hear the next one always coming,
some one else you know is calling.
Still slightly warm I am running.
I get up again and you go back to sleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem