When I go to the beach I remember the first poem I ever wrote for you. It was the first real poem I ever wrote infused with something I'd never known before wave upon wave crashing in with love's desire like a never ending fire.

When I go to the beach I remember the first time I came inside you, the storm howling its voice harder than the headboard against the wall so no one could hear your muffled screams. Quietness ensued, our breathing as deep and easy as our hearts and then you said, "that was my first time...ever." "To come?" "Yes." "Ever?" "Yes."

When I go to the beach I remember the picture you gave me when you walked away, the one that sits on my desk now, the one with with the sea oats and the rising thunderhead and the horizon the same blue as your eyes, the one with the shells you picked up and attached to the simple frame.

Today, I went to the beach.