pause

Waves crash upon the sand. I search for rounded sea glass amid the pebbles that stick to the bottom of my feet. We sink into sand and sea water kisses our knees. I kneel and fill my hands with sand. I move and mound it into the shape of a dome. You remain standing, so, with more sand, I cover your feet. Moments later you crouch down, breaking through your feet's fetters, and add to the dome. But your eyes stretch out to the horizon and don't focus on this moment. My eyes on yours, I can't see where you've gone, although you're still very literally and physically here. I'm not with you, wherever you are. I stand and step a few more paces into the water until it hits me hip-high. I raise my arms and look up at the white clouds turning pink. I sway my hands in the water and bring some to my face. I start back towards you. Looking at my feet, I place them on the bigger rocks. I don't want to slip. And then. Underwater. I choke because the force of you pushing me under has left me without air. The abruptness of submersion incites me to laughter, not aiding the choking situation much. I grab your waist. I laugh. You smile. I quiet down, regain the ability to breathe again, and it's just us standing there. Heaving breaths towards the horizon and wet with water, we pause. Together.