Their fins are golden.

They swim towards the sunrise

like lovers without a care.

Each ripple caused by the waves of their love

comes crashing into the horizon.

The sun bears down on them

like inflatables that are too tight

and cut off circulation.

The summertime flip-flops of beachgoers

reminds me of a time

I could jump into the sun.

It sat there big and round 

Like a pomelo freshly ripened, soft a little. 

I wanted to jump into the sunshine

Jump into the arms that love me

Jump into a docked lifeboat.

But the present is

a tangent

it leaks off the page