Seagulls stir quietly
as King Night is
slowly uncrowned
and the prince of daylight
ascends the throne of morning
above the dark water of the sea.
King Nights last icy breath blows
across our bodies, but is kept at
bay by the warmth that we two create
wound tightly about each other
on a blanket in the sand.
And as the sun kisses the
sky, in a ritual
older than though,
I turn and take
your hand in mine
and touch my lips to
yours welcoming the dawn
with a kiss.

AcB 1.15.00