Sour Patch Smiles

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The sea is sparkling like rose gold this afternoon.
We cover our fingers in beer batter and our fries in salt and pepper.
With sour patch smiles, we order a second round of
Lagunitas and soft serve frozen yogurt drizzled with olive oil.
Our tastebuds dance with the sensation of vanilla and caramel.
I mix bites of huckleberry sauce with the leftover pieces of chocolate lava cake.
Our volcanic mess oozing onto ceramic plates.
We are riding an afterglow and a sugar high that will keep us by
the docks long into a pomegranate sunset.
I twirl mint leaves into my hair and we exchange
flirtatious glances and hands over thighs.
Collecting nickels and dimes in ripped jean pockets
and fumbling over belt buckles.
We are lovedrunk. Champagne bubbles and enamored eyelashes.
Surfboards and lilac butterflies. Waitress glares and overstayed welcomes.
I read along the bezel of my watch – 3:53 pm.
You suggest driving along the coast, inhaling ocean air and beach wave hair.
We waltz into the late afternoon, feet up on teal chairs and eyes under chandeliers of fans.
Linen tablecloths, linen napkins, out in the terrace room.
Two of a kind, the perfect team. We are a Monday kind of King and Queen.

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