spent every summer there with you.
the water, so much brighter and blue.

Two minute walk from
the doorstep to the shoreline.
The stars flooded the black sky,
we sank into course sand until the sunrise

the people i love may be here,
but i refuse to call this home.
home is defined by tiny splinters
in my feet from the pier,
and feeling the shifting sky of the
oncoming thunderstorms in my bones.

salt flows through my blood,
faster than the night we ran
from the red and blue.
cause you knew if i was going down,
so were you.

300 miles away,
I can still smell hibiscus flowers in full bloom.
The cocoa coast,
I’ll be there soon.