lake michigan, 1987, 6:50pm
she traces the lining of the lake, fingertips diving in first,
then, little by little,
her bare skin touches the water,
a kimono of
moonlit droplets cascading down her back
as her body disappears into the
water.

he didn't notice the small bumps and freckles she
had,
in fact, he covered his eyes when she offered him
her body, and by then i knew she was a
******* lunatic for loving someone
who wasn't
me.

the phone was buzzing on its wall at
9 am,
and she lifted herself out of bed, feet dragging
on the cracks of the wooden floor
of my grandmother's house in her lace
nightgown.
her pulse must've felt to her like it
was twisting out of her skin.

"i want to feel your heart in my hands,
your soul gliding through my fingertips."
his voice was an ocean wave crawling over her ears,
subtle tides of holy water washing her ***** palms clean.

"who is it?" my voice trembled from
across the hallway.
i wanted to punch myself and then,
him.
"stephen. i think he still cares
about
me."

the next year they were to be
married.

palm beach, 2015, 6:51pm
the wood of the rocking chair reminded me
of my grandmother's house, then,
ultimately, her.
now my throat is bone dry.
i pour some whiskey,
and feel my
love
slip further
away.