our beowulf.

it's as if
i threw a bottle into the sea
those years ago on the mediterranean
(when i asked that group of german kids if they knew where my pants were),
and you reached down on a rocky missouri shore
and picked it up
because you were doing community service
and cleaning the coast.
god you smell of indian nights
and mornings of clean laundry in greece.
the light shows in lines on your face.
damn,
you are like grendel
released from his eternal mental prison
and not evil
and really good in bed.