How I came to know the beach and her special beauty

I would like to start with waking up at your house
because I’m not done thinking about it.

In the corner of your mouth I am
like balloons resting on the
hardwood floor of your living room
after a party.
Static energy
a quiet energy
anchoring my lips to your neck as I spill
into the nook of your arm and your chest

With eyes closed, even the light in this room
the air’s soft hands, the scent,
the blue-grey of your walls and
the pictures I know are hanging there
seem to summarize this city and its beach

How I understood the beach and her special beauty
when you told me about being there with James
on a day with sun

Later that night, you both bit your lips
as the hem of my dress rose when I lifted my arms up to dance
I noticed you in sitting in the booth in the bar
moodily sipping your third
gin and tonic under furrowed brows
mistook you for a character in a book.

I checked in with you at about 2am and
you said I was one of those party guests who makes a strong impression on people who have never met them before that night
we toasted to me over the hors d’ouevres on the coffee table

One morning, I found myself awake in the corner of your room,
And there I remain—trapped in the nook of your arm and your chest.