I'm envious of that deep blue,
how it glided over skin and bone without a second thought.
The last living thing to hold you
before the earth.
My touch a forgotten memory to your skin.

With every shower, I'm reminded. No matter how long I stand
under the rushing beam
I never really feel clean.
You wasted away in the ocean
for 32 hours.
I stand in the shower for 33,
and can still feel the maggots.
They worm their way into my blood and my brain
and pour out of my eyes like tidal waves.

Ten winters pass swiftly,
and I return to this beach.
It feels like no time has passed,
yet my hands are being squeezed from both sides.
The water is unforgiving and beats the shore
over and over and over.
Laying down in the sand, like you once did
I'm enveloped in white washed waves.
Instead of drowning along with you,
I’ll float
on and on and on.