Barely there beach and we sat there
Tired
Together
in a blaze of red
Fading into the coming night
And how after heading back to our camp
An old man
stopping us
to show the pictures he had taken of
Our silhouettes together encircled by
Fiery dusk
How he asked for our emails
In effort to send the photos to us and
How we wrote them down
on
a piece of barely damp notebook paper
And how walking away you said
He's never going to send them
Because he was going to jerk off to them
And recall how I'm sitting here tonight
Still waiting for those photos even though
It's been what, five years?
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