i don't go to beaches anymore.
they remind me of you.
the sand, so comfortable to lay in
but hot enough to scald my skin
and i can never get it all out of my
clothes, hair, mind.
the sea breeze is refreshing,
it clears my mind but only
for a moment,
soon enough i'm obsessing,
i'm longing,
it's all i can think of.
the current of the tide
threatens
to drag me under,
filling my lungs,
my heart.
i don't go to beaches anymore.

the grass beneath my hands
and the rain in my lungs
the soft patter of the drops on my skin
remind me of the evening
i met you -
the storm on the horizon,
in the sky and
in your body

i summoned the rain
while i choked on the smoke
of your cigarette.
you didn't believe
when i said
i could call the thunder,
that i could make you
feel it roll under your feet.
you told me i
didn't have what it takes
to drown you.
maybe i don't
but i have enough
to drench you,
to pelt you,
until you drown yourself.

i listen to my lonely heart beat
and the sounds of heavy thunder
make it skip, the lightning
brightens my bedroom
and dreams of you
brighten my mind and
my burden