carry me out to sea, why dont ya?

he had sunk into the sand - just as a predator falls hidden into the high swaying grass but he was no more of a sticking sore thumb than the bright green ribbon of seaweed just a few yards off of him. a quiet half nap - half daydream where his nose shifted back in forth in the sand just enough to wake up with the hollow sounding sneeze that shook his entire body. a kiss from the gods - or whatever those prayed to and he watched on with open eyes to see the crowns of heads in prayer. for that, for who, for him, he was thankful as he watched a woman caress the ocean waves, past the breaking point to where she simply hovered beneath the glinting rays.

old service stories - women in the sea. their coats glinting with the salt and rays. camp stories about their alluring voices and the kiss of death had you come close enough. (what are you, witch doctor?) his head rose from the sand, it sprinkling his chin and cheeks, down the arched muscles of his neck and chest as if put their by a child. messy and caught tight to nearly matted fur. (what would she think if you now..rahul?) rolling r's and a kissing ginger head of hair. he saw flashes of her, then and there. looking upon another woman, saturated in what they had met. perhaps he deserved it, perhaps he deserved the threatening presence of her behind his lids. perhaps he deserved it all.

* he's just watching her from the beach :)