#13: I Remember

I remember us on the shore,

watching the waves roll,

and people on their surfboards

challenge the high tides.

 

I remember us on the shore,

watching the birds fly

where the sun was slowly

leaving its throne,

and the bleeding sky

met the comforting blue sea.

 

I remember us on the shore,

listening to the calming sounds

of waves crashing into rocks,

of waves washing over the shore,

though the music was loud,

all I could hear was my heartbeat,

within me was chaos

because like the waves

you were drowning me.

 

I remember us on the shore,

and the fire of life flickering

in your ocean blue eyes

and your lips curving into a smile,

the same smile I had seen

the first time we had ever met

back when without stopping

we’d crossed paths,

and I too remember on that autumn day,

under the sun-painted dusk sky,

along the gentle winds

and the fluttering amber leaves,

your auburn hair had danced

beneath your russet beanie.

 

I have always wondered,

If, ever, even only once,

my brown eyes remind you

of that autumn day?

 

I remember us on the shore,

where you slipped your hand into mine

and as the sky darkened into night,

your eyes once again gleamed,

and in your mesmerizing blue eyes

I was immersed.

 

I remember us on the shore,

where with your cold fingers,

you caressed my crimsoning cheek,

“Drown, so you can find what you seek,”

say you like a clairvoyant telling,

a foolish vagabond, or were you

a witch bewitching with spells,

that I, without thinking, followed you?

to the depths of the ocean we went,

and I saw myself in deep waters,

knowing, it was the only death

that gave me life, the life

I could and would never find

with someone else.

 

At that moment,

briefly, I was certain,

the oceans

at the Gulf of Alaska

envied us.

2020.