Provincetown

To my
surprise,
I saw Linda,
whose tawny eyes
matched her hair,
stride across the
sand to where
I lay on my
Betty Boop
beach blanket.

Self-assured,
as was her way,
she wordlessly
lifted me in her arms
and carried me
to the veranda
of a bar overlooking
the sea,

where six other women,
tanned and lithe,
were gathered—

every shade of brown
and gold, every
color eyes.

She placed me
in their midst,
and when I leaned
to kiss her,

the group began
to slowly slither
upon itself, until
we coalesced
in one prolonged
caress of glistening
sweat and womanflesh.

On the beach,
my Betty Boop
blanket lay—
a cast-off raiment—
quite forgotten.

Later in the day,
I saw her floating gently
in the waves, rolling
on the cresting tide.