She had spent the day watching him.

It was one of those glorious moments in time,

an hour, a minute, a splash in the sea of life.

A day that lasts forever.

She remembers how his corn colored hair refused to behave,

and the glistening droplets of ocean dribbled down his body,

like the sparkling rhinestones on the tassels of her favorite dress.

He was Neptune’s son,

laughing at the power surrounding him,

riding his board with white foam ever threatening,

mocking its dangerous might.

Later, with a candle’s flame their fireplace,

and the gentle lapping of the nearby ripples their music,

her wrists pinned into the cool, enveloping sand,

he devoured her neck like a vampire’s apprentice,

and making her beg and moan and gasp,

brought her to the peak of the mountain,

holding her prisoner,

until he deigned she could leap from the precipice into erotic splendor.

She thinks of him often,

the first to show her who she was,

and is.

It was a 100 years ago, and it was yesterday.