And the smell of saltwater
screened by the scent of orange
and the air a whirr of papillon
as skin absorbed the texture of dew,
in beads, on open pores, epidermally
alert to the ocean’s flirt.
The sunlight fell in shavings,
as if drawn to a naked magnet,
the spray a bee-breeze
of flutter and settle
and everywhere oranges,
groaning in their perfume,
heavy with liquid sun.
The seaside orchard
smothered the senses,
light thick as foam
on drooping lashes,
surf exploding drunkenly
around one’s feet,
and the smell of saltwater
screened by the scent of orange.