Cape May beckons your presence,
Impatiently crashing and pulling against the sharp shards of rock, Your fingers beg for land
Your lungs beg for air
And yet, you beg for the deep blue trench beneath

Even as a child, my mother told me to stray from the boy with auburn hair.
Who lived in the house by the sea
Struggling to be more than just my summer lover.
More than an annual kiss near passing ferries,
More than just your pale skin,
On my dark skin, in the sand of July

Summer passed, I was not there
Summer passed, I was not there,
This summer passed, I was not there and you shattered,
Drowning.
No longer a part of me,
You are now part of the sea,
salt,
and sky.