The sun slides beneath your eyelids in a wash of
orange like the inside of a grapefruit or
the algae that grows on the underside of the dock.
The air feels corrosive but you like
its salty bite
and the scent of the wind—like the ghosts of
all the fish in the sea.
slides along the sky and slices
into the water
spreading toward you in a runway of light. A wave
fans out on the sand before your toes, sounding like
and your tracks are erased behind you.