Tides

She’s leaned back
against me
as we lounge on
our balcony,
watching the waves
and hearing the sea

My hands resting
on her tummy,
she turns to slightly
gaze at me,
With nervous grin
she moves my hand,
like the caress
of wave and sand,
drawing it low
as ebbing tide,
and begins then
to gingerly guide
beyond her hips,
between her legs,
and with a sigh
quietly begs:
Tickle me,
nibble my ear,
whisper naughty things
I want to hear