a passage from love hymns not yet formed

There is a place, not too far from here that is just shy of heaven.
…the tips of her fingers have become all too acquainted with this abyss.
Like a grain of sand wanting to be the sun, she sits on the banks of this blasphemy soon to be rebellion…reminiscent of how the sea changes its mind just before it overtakes the shoreline…
She thinks of him in love poems;

6/15/2022
There he is…
He takes my breath away from across the yard.
His form fitted t-shirt and work boots with a grass smoothie plastered to their onyx exterior, move me like the wind that propels his reel mower minutes before sundown and the supper I prepared just because I love the way his lips look when they entwine his fork.

I swear, he persuades me like cajolery on a good day.