Next to you, you saw the tiger shark swimming in the sea. It was tied to a rope fasten to the stem of a straw hut. You were captived by it’s form, the texture of its skin. The blue grey colour; its lithe body, conveyed raw energy. Every trash of it’s tale communicated pure power.
And, you heard this voice shouting, not a harsh sound but one possessing a dulcet rhythmic tone; the feature of the voice that was most striking was the accent. You turned around and there in the water was this black adonis wading through the waves. He was speaking French. …startled, frozen to the spot, all thoughts of the shark vanished. …waving his hands, and you realised that he was jesturing for you to leave the water, communicating to you that it was not safe to be in the sea. The things that most startled me was the erotic desire I felt for him: the scent of black tar melting in the midday heat, you walking bare feet on hot sand.
I saw the water droplets on his skin: salt crystals clinging to the black coral. The sweat of the sun glimmering in the light and so beauty lay wasted in the heat, my longings never to be. He caught the longing in my eyes, as sure as my gaze had pierced his skin. He even dare, mock my desire, he saw me laid bare, his words tearing at my heart, ‘he looks at me like a girl’.