When it got too cold
And the waves had calmed
You scoffed at their size
They were too small
You had graduated onto better things
I tried not to notice you
The way you shook your dark curls
Spraying a fine mist of salt water
Like waves crashing into barnacled black slippery rocks
Or the way tiny beads clung to your eyelashes
As you smiled at the girls
That let their fingers dance over your wetsuit clad pecs
I failed.
Walk by
Don't bother to look at me
With my hopes dashed
Surrounding me
And glittering in the almost moonlight
Like the pavement
Along Fifth Avenue
I used to think they were diamonds.
You laughed at me when I told you that
But I was only four I protested.
You scoffed at my immaturity.
I thought four year olds were supposed to be immature.
The smell of burnt wood mingles with the air
Stings my nose from my perch
On a nearby dune
As the translucent white debris
From the burning pine
Float around my head
Leaving me with an ashen halo
And turning my hair prematurely grey
I think I should run away.
Still in your wetsuit
You sat on the sand in front of the fire
Allowed one of the girls to unzip
The back of your suit
And massage those tired muscles
As you stroked her silky smooth
Freshly shaven legs
Brown from the summer sun
And one of the guys hands you a beer
I don't think this bon fire is very successful.
Between tears I raise my eyes
To another figure
Casting the shadow upon my quivering shoulders
The blackness against
Cotton candy painted in
Stripes in the early evening sky.
The hand was extended towards me
It's time to go home.
