Another favorite. A little vulnerability, here, but I feel like it might be worth it.
Alki
October 24, 2015
Edited March 31, 2016
Summers, two decades past, we came here
as children, we fought on the rocks,
and it was here my sense of belonging
disappeared among miles of salted sand.
The loss is still fresh on my tongue,
the sting of sharp boulders on scabby knees
lingering in photographs where we squint
upwards, away from the water, towards
some freedom we never quite possess.
Now at other precipices we trundle to the shore,
gathering our wits, worries and regrets around
seven smoke clouds, fistfuls of chai and Pike Place brew.
Now there is no condemnation here under
the seductively gray skies, cloudy and still.
I am tired of resenting you for your immense guilt,
the things you feel so deeply and do not say.
Comprehension came at the cement steps where
you smiled as I collected fragmented shells,
white and smoothed by a life made at sea.
You said this was not the ocean but I said
this is my ocean, the first part I ever knew.
Such is the current and wave of my life,
that I can never get back to the real thing,
and so I will take what I can get from
the sky, the horizon, this conversation.
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