Such a trampoline of sandy, ill begotten, virtues, bounce up to greet my gritty feet.
And, it is a long road to greet…the others!
The others…like me.
So…I trade mountains for the buttery aroma of all the half shells along north beach.
Not trans.
Not bi.
Just scantily clad friends in need of retreat.
There is no need to beware of differences…between pride or right or wrong.
The Queens and bears and otters who came before me allow for no spite.
Within the dunes, no titles, labels or names.
As the sun also sets…we are all the same.
