washed away
from the splash of
sea spray. Tiny crystal
grains of sand still clinging

under my fingernails. Two
boys building castles
with shovels and pails. I drew
a heart around the letters. It was

so cold we both wore
sweaters. The cornflower
sky was smiling down
as salty ocean water pooled

around my ankle. You
were rankled by a thought. I was not
the woman you sought.  A proxy
with honey locks and pearl teeth. We did

not hold hands. We held lies
that pushed their way in like the ocean
tide. And so, we ran out of shore,
on a beach in Bangor.