Every morning I run five miles on the beach watching the sun rise in the sky. The seagulls dive and play and the waves crash in. Nature is a contrast, both savage and serene. I see lovely shells but rather than pick them up, I crunch them as I pound the sand in my anguish. It's time to think and discover a way to put some color back into my disappearing love life. What has happened? I wonder, as the salt stings my skin. The blues are all I have left right now. And they are fading to black. The absence of color. I remember mornings that were sun kissed, strawberries and oranges, the fruits of love. Lovemaking was a bright fertile green. My body was ripe, wet like the ocean mist. Kisses were warm like the sun. Our mouths were soft pink and tasted salty and sweet. Making love was the wildness of the white caps on the ocean, and the satisfied blue of happiness afterwards. Maybe this was meant to be a summertime romance. I expect too much; that wouldn�t be unusual. We could part as friends right now. Before the colors fade completely away. By Kathie Stehr May 2002 |
| A Kalideoscope of Romance |
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