Growing up in the ocean state

Summer days were waxing moons
and waning sunsets
wandering the water’s edge
in a blackened promised city
wearing heeled boots and soft wallets;

We spent mornings in day dust cafรฉs
Or diners sinking into the sediment,
then gathered our fill of stars
with pink lemonade and holed socks;

Anything to keep our heads underage:
bakeries, bedrooms, monogrammed towels,
the sound of our own footsteps
jogging close to our backs.

The dark water shifts it’s gaze
in gravity of the one-eyed sky,
But this time it’s blank
instead of a kaleidoscope:

Each time a wave reached for us
a hand would only go out so far
and end straining the sparkling sand.

These were the colors of our eyes,
not pearly white or blue or brown,
But something seen from a lifeguard’s perch
in search of an absolute moon.

One thought on “Growing up in the ocean state

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