rather

I want to tell you a story about a girl and the sea 

but no matter how I begin it 

I end up talking about him and me 

and I’m brought back to that February day

where it ended – my time spent alone with him 

and yet he cries cause he misses it 

and every harmonic makes me think of death 

how he punched until I had no breath left 

and how much energy it took to whimper the word 

STOP

I’d rather talk about how I held my breath watching

you disappear into the waves

 talk about how you plucked the ivory treasures from the floor

those endless sandy walks finding the sea glass you adore 

marvel that you really are so brave 

 instead of feeling like he’s marching me to my grave

I want to tell you a story about a girl and the sea 

but no matter how I begin it

I always end up talking about him and me 

 

hush-hush

Have you grown weary of our clandestine

meetings?  You seem impatient with all my

weeping.  My tears getting mingled with my

drinking.  Drops of salt make it taste better

anyway.  The grief tastes sweet, begging to stay.

 

How long will it be?  How long will this grief

remain?  Tired of waking up sad mourning

in the morning.  Would rather smile back at

you, something I’ve forgotten how to do.

Could we forgive us?  Could we even try?

 

With hushed words in secret places in the

dark holes of our home; he waits and spies on

us.  We stop our chatter and vow to try

tomorrow.  Let our clandestine meetings

last.  Let’s be strong.  Let’s ruin this sorrow.