cyclic is the time of day, when minute by minute, in heart beating yet fleeting seconds, I come into contact with myself in my purest form. where I am exposed, vulnerable, unguarded but not fragile. strength of my own souls beauty, only visible to a discerning observer. own lips graze the surface of my sun kissed shoulder, the scent of sea salt still fresh from the mornings dip. being in touch with this moment is sensual, I shall wish for more of the same tomorrow.