Poetry Books

I'm heading for the beach tomorrow.
I want to stare at the ocean
and let its anger stir me senseless.
I want the softness of the sand
to keep my secret treasure:
the first thing I spotted this morning
was a strand of your dark hair
corrupting my white sheets.
I picked it up and made a wish,
I wished your heart would be blessed
with peace and kindness
for I am not into the bitterness you embody.
I want the waves to wash me like a windshield,
make it clear forever more
that the fact that we slept together
under the watch of our poetry books
will take my breath away
and deepen my loving soul
every single time
I pick up a book to read.