Apr 07
El's picture


Do you remember when they built the bridge (or maybe they were fixing it)
and the metal fell
and severed the electrical cable running beneath?
Do you remember how all the houses south of the break
had no power
and their air conditioning wouldn’t work?
Do you remember that anyone who didn’t live there;
(and we didn’t live there);
they had to stay away?
And do you remember (and I know it was stupid); do you remember how I cried?
I knew we could go next year.
We were lucky for a promise of next year. Not everyone got to go to the beach next year.
I wanted the ocean so bad that it hurt.
I’m not sure why I love water so much.
I have nightmares about monster waves.
I’m scared of drowning.
The sea is cold and dark and it will eat you if the things inside it don’t eat you first.
But (and I know it’s sappy) if my soul made sounds,
I think it would sound like water.
Sometimes, when we’re driving on the bridge (the one they built, or maybe the one they fixed),
I can see the breakers,
and it aches between my ribs,
like my heartbeat’s trying to match the waves.
And when we first arrive, on that first night (we can never beat the sunset, remember?),
I always run down the boardwalk,
and it’s like:
home isn’t a building but a body,
the water’s body, my body,
and it’s real it’s