Montevideo's Beaches

Montevideo’s beaches I want to sip margaritas there
Where a bright sun bakes the sand concrete asphalt into an oven
Yearning a cause for celebration
The ancient Atlantic splashes blue in my reveries
Why does ice cool me from the inside out and freeze me from the outside in
War leaves me crying myself to sleep at night
Love seeps through my fingers like water I try to hold in cupped hands
The world shovels dirt over me as if I already lay in my grave
I’d have toured the royal courts of Europe
Or I might have been illiterate and poor
Expressing universal passion matters
I am like a snail morphing into a butterfly
As a four-year-old I almost drowned in a swimming pool
I keep my mother’s ashes
Commiseration contaminates contemplation
I’m not looking for a “Heart of Gold” just a woman to smile with me
Her rose-petal skin could soothe my aging aches
Let me taste her whispering flesh with my fingers and smell her ecstasy between my teeth
If only a she existed to ignore my faults and find the latent joy
Love seeps through my fingers expressing universal passion
Passion is my raison d’etre
Passion is my undoing
I miss bodysurfing in Malibu in the summer
I miss Sunday morning polo at Will Rogers State Park with champagne, strawberries, sharp cheddar and fresh baked sourdough bread from the Pioneer bakery
I miss smelling my mother’s kitchen
In dreams I hear the Atlantic waves breaking on Montevideo's beaches