#16 who cares about what I'm dreaming of though,

Rich, resorts, restful,
and wrinkles, with experiences,
resting on a swing,
a relief after a long, rocky journey,
rejoicement in retirement!

rocking on between the coconut trees,
(relax, no monkeys,)
retelling stories,
to the breeze, waves, and fish?

sun has not mercy,
but the intensity of light,
decreases through layers of ozone,
and leaves, cast patterns of shadows,
a real-time, live art,
take places on my long-hair-covered face,
no need for shades,
not at all,

here comes the breeze,
warm but cold,
massaging all over my body,
almost to no sense of touch,
so gentle, so soft,
but enough to blow away the pains,

music distantly,
suits the place, beach,
reggae,
a soundtrack of love and peace,
(trying to reach the weed,
but I'm being lousy so let it away this time,)
rasta hats and dreadlocks,
bongo drums and trumpets,
and... what the fuck? Violin?
oh, just a prop on the stage,
throaty singer with deep messages,
in between songs,
Rastafarian poems delivered,

God should hire them,
instead of angels with harps, yea?

almost stepped into the fantasy,
almost stepped out of temporary paradise,
waves keeping me awake,
by its sounds of gushes,
dehydrated, salty,
pina coladas truly one kind of savior,
washing away the thirst,
quickly reminded me of a kiss,
from a lady,
a lady,
who comes,
once in a while,

I'm falling into sequences of dream,
vivid, blue sky,
the sunshine, oh so beautiful!
the vast, blue sea, blue boat,
the waters taking up role as sirens,
products for magnanimous,
among the blues, there is red,
lady in red, approaching,
kissing, signaling,

a journey along the trail of intimacy.