We lie on the beach on top of fleece blankets,

sheltered from the summer sun by the pier above.

You put your hat across your eyes,

pretending sleep but I know

that you hear every swish of bikini

and female hip bones grinding

as they pass us on their way to the water.

 

You pretend not to notice other women

but you sometimes get a rise

in those low riders you wear.

“I was dreaming of you,” you blatantly lie.

 

I pretend to be bothered by your looking,

partly to make you feel like the dog you are

 

but mostly to cover my own sins of the flesh

as I watch young half-naked men play volleyball

in the sun, while I lie under the pier

and mentally undress them the rest of the way,

grateful for the coolness of the shade.