His brown hands grip a leash leading
a bulldog along the shore. Waves wash
his feet, droplets cling to his skin leaving
salt lines like jewels up toned calves.
Women glare behind sunglasses at the dog
they wished they were. Pulled, moved, turned,
by a man such as you.
Swim trunks draw low around
cozy hips. No shirt, only bare ridges kissed
by suns lips.
I stand to catch the view. The craving
pushes me below the sand. Legs, chest,
and eyes covered, mouth engorged