There are things about the beach 

Seagulls shitting on our towels and pecking at our sun chips 

The color palette of janas dark smooth bark next to Floridas teal kool aid

An ocean of soft paint collecting over and on and around all of us the sea salt getting into the crevices of our eyes and belly buttons 

Why do they call it sea salt I thought it was ocean salt

In this sun we have a need for water and propped up umbrellas for shade the coughing of Pelicans as they glide like paper airplanes almost in reach above us

I lay here, more bare then usual more content with my body my life my aspirations 

Every good and perfect gift is from above 

Perfectly hand delivered to me is this day and the day we were supposed to arrive when I spent it with my dog in my lap and red paint climbing up my forearm 

Judging by all this goodness I bask in I would say his love is deep and wide and I pray for the same conviction and ability to see even when a day is hard and it feels my gifts are smaller 

But they aren't