The sound of the surf as background music,
The sea breeze whispering old love poems in my ear,
The sunlight playing on your face, smiling
At my request...
You crack the crab, take the meat,
Dip it in the butter and raise it to my lips,
I kiss your slippery, seasoned fingertips.
Donovan Baldwin
Thank you for the "like", Susan. I like this one myself. I think s few readers may miss the "sharing" of touch and taste and texture.