Listening to the sound of waves
hitting the rocks
And the cool breeze
playing with my hairlocks
I look at the setting sun
As I lean back and smile
For the first time
in a long while
My mind was quiet
my soul was speaking
and my heart got
what it was seeking!

There's an illusion in vacations
You buy a holiday bundle to endless beaches
Expecting to melt into a puddle
From the wet sun, from the softest massages, from the savoury delicacies
Yet I find myself melted
The same numbing beat
Disguised as lofi background
The same screeching shrieks
Of strangers in the sun
The lack in detail as I see the same view
Everyday, the same restaurant every meal
A sameness away from home

In the sand a million footsteps form
In a uniform path from the sleepy gazebos to the ocean
The ocean stretching far and away
The horizon hiding the destination of the sun
No footsteps can lead me towards where I long
Stuck in a routine I cannot call my own

A cup of coffee,
I feel its warmth in my hands.
This warmth, I know,
Will soon vanish against
The cold, salty air.
The clouds bring rain.
We know that.
The clouds scream your name
And the trees resemble your face,
Serene, as you ponder, as you wonder.

A cup of coffee,
You brought me,
And I think of you
As a warm cup I hold in my
Trembling hands,
Whilst the cold, wet air
Tries on and on
To push me away from you.

But for now,
We are here together,
Watching as the tiny pebbles
At the beach
Get damped slowly.
And we know.
The storm will soon fall upon us.
But for now,
We stand here,
Looking into each others eyes.

Shining lights on a Dalmatian shore
Broken little mirrors on an aqua sea
provides the backdrop for boys wrestling on a concrete diving board

Girls soaking each other with a push button tap
The thin old man in speedos intervenes
One hand holding a roll up
The other gesturing in Croatian

The setting sun behind the city of Split
Is a rusty heat haze for swallows to dart over
Truffle oil fills the air from the cafe
A couple use sign language to speak as the sea roars in

Backs and shoulders covered in beautiful inked art with Angels, crosses and devils
Pine trees provide shelter on the stony beach
Families playing cards and laughing.

The church bells signal it is time to go in
We start up the hill and look back at the sky.
A night to remember and a night to repeat.

i lost myself in the waves of emotions
they knocked me to the sand at my knees
my lungs filled with bitter salt
i crawl to a *******
to be met by a an undertow
pulling me under the water
scraping my skin on the rocks on the bottom
salt stings my cuts
the undertow pushes me back up on the beach front
the sun is warm
the breeze is subtle

During the heat
Can't feel my feet
Or even across the street
So hot to go out
My skin is melting and i'm hiding out
Luckily can't catch the sun
This is not fun
This is summer
This is no time to make a snowman or wearing an umbrella
This time is meant for the beach
Please someone take me to the beach
Someone with a truck or car
I'm too far, please someone come
so i can reach.. the beach
Cause now fresh cold water is all i need and is all i think of.

take off your shell, wash off the dirt that is layered upon your skin
come out of the cave, show us what’s within
the expertly built walls that surround your lake of life
you can’t keep swimming away all your life
reclusive exclusive beach ***
elusive and ruined pretty creature

Its sundown, the day’s been reduced to a crack of lavender and fiery pinks along the Massif des Maures mountains. This evening we’re sipping cocktails at “Les Toits,” the Hôtel de Paris’ rooftop restaurant. The French would call this a lounge.

Les toits translates as ‘the roofs’ and its stunning view overlooks the provincial rooftops that ***** down the foothills to the gulf of Saint-Tropez and it’s world-famous beaches. The well lit boats are settling down and dropping anchor for the night as we complete our orders and get our second round of drinks.

This has been the best vacation. I think we’ve all reclaimed our calm after a tense freshman year. We’ve been at the beach for 10 days. Leong and Sunny are actually tan, Lisa and my hair are half a tone lighter and Bili’s black skin has taken on gorgeous, purple-ish highlights.

I’ve known Lisa now for ten months, but we share a deep connection that seems older. Lisa’s lovely, brazen, and naturally flashy, without trying. Unfortunately, though, Lisa draws men like a keig-light draws moths - whether she’s looking for them or not - I don’t envy her that. Young men, middle aged men, old men.

Lisa said it started when she was 13. She’d be in a store or restaurant with her mom or dad and a lady would introduce herself, “Hi, I’m with the Ford, or Elite, or IMG, or DNA modeling agency, has your daughter done any modeling?” And another business card would be wasted. Her mom nodded as she recalled this sordid past.

Attention just shifts to her, the party comes to her, she can’t seem to avoid it. About every 30 minutes some man comes over and introduces himself to us (to her). This man owns a local night club, would we (she) be his guest? (He’s looking at her like desert) This guy owns a yacht - “that one, there,” he points it out, in his Russian oligarch voice - he clicks a fob on his keychain and the lights blink. Oh, sure, join a strange foreign man on his yacht, what could go wrong?

There are 8 of us girls at the table with Charles, our escort and confidant. He’s a 50-ish, red headed ex-NYC-cop who just sits there quietly and sips his drink like James Bond. He seldom says anything. I lean in to him and say, “Maybe they think you're her ****?!” Leong coughs in her drink and Charles gives me the same, serious, “behave yourself” look I’ve gotten since I was 9.