Independence Day

Red is the urgency of their morning:
his cloth beach hat
softening a stern jawline,
her crimson-starred bikini strings
digging into her sides.

White is their alabaster skin
paled by the sun’s unforgiving glare:
his in the slim, pointed spaces
between vulgar, ink-black tattoos,
hers in the ragged edges
of a gaping thigh wound.

Blue is unharnessed sky
in the absence of barbed wire fences:
replaced by his ankle bracelet
which monitors every move
and her pangs of hunger
for every second to count.

As their pale skin simmers,
then burns to blood,
salted waves salve their scars,
then tug squandered hours,
raging secrets,
and final regrets –
in with the undertow,
down to the ocean’s depths.

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