Love Affair with the Sea
The wind whistles my name,“You’re late for our adventure.” It tugs at my hair, twisting dreams into the strands. The surf swallows my prints—No matter, my feet leave more, daring the sand to remember. Each time the sea surges, teasing, whispering, calling out, “Again?” I dance, bare toes sinking, weaving salt-laced promises into the tide. Foam kisses my ankles, tugs, pleads—"Stay." Laughter rises in my chest, wild as the waves. "Always." (c) 2025 Lynne Curry Published as Dancing with the…