The Peacock Mosaic

Shifting Sands


We bare our limbs to celebrate the sun,
inventing scenes of sexual desire.
In shallow pool in Speedos you have won
the water cool excitement you require;
while I direct warm rays inside my thighs.
It feels ok like this to ask, Have you
decided yet on girls or boys?
Blue skies
inspire a clear and unaffected view.
More ways than one to have an outing here.
But I’m too ordinary to be gay
is all you give. I aim to persevere.
I squint, resist defeat, suggest we play
at frisbee – see who gets the upper hand.
Two siblings chasing patterns in the sand.

That afternoon I walk you through the dune.
I know we can be hidden here; you may
begin to talk. It’s here that lovers spoon,
where, overcome with sun by end of day,
I pressed my heat against her tender parts.
I’m thinking this when Boys, alright! But say
I wanted children – well – what then?
My heart’s
in freeze. The thought can not be waved away.
For she of spoons has met a married man
and, as we speak, she’s relishing his genes.
A love affair? Or just a lesbian
exploring sex and all its in-betweens?
Old footprints, now, no hope of their retrace.
I settle for a brother’s fond embrace.

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