Of Friends and Lovers

I wanted more of her,
stories slow to form on days
the sun shines bright above
and waves will dance
to the tunes we play.

I found wet skin
to lure my hands under the waves
and tasted years known
for friends we cared
and loved.

But once unwrapped
desires tend to grow wild
under a touch, a taste
of salt on sunburned lips
will leave a mark.

She still a friend
of moments formed of sand
and waves, forever be
across our skins
of secret lovers.

HRios