Laying atop the jagged rocks, on a narrow beach blanket,
I sneak a peek as you paddle away from the shore.
My fingers itch to sketch out the curves of your surfboard
And perhaps you, instead of the tumble of waves
I’d vowed to capture this sunny morning.
You coast the swells nonchalantly,
And as the glistening
waves tide recedes, you emerge,
Quiff and all, only to be engulfed by her arms instead;
the colours in my watercolours with sepia.