La Palma
When the sun consumed the ocean pink as passion fruit
we carved our initials into the bark of a palm tree,
rubbed our names into the sand
then watched the trunk grow tall and curve with our love
and how high we built our castles!
We felt the day climb to its apex
as we fanned each other with palm frawns,
tangling ourselves in ourselves,
and through my eyelids I could almost trace the pattern of a leaf falling
as we propped our heads on a log in the shade and got green with sleep
In the evening when the air was ripe
we stripped off our peels to blend into the drink,
swishing each other around in our mouths,
and tasted nothing but the salt of the water.
In dark the beach became tectonic
sand shifted, collapsing our castles and tearing our oasis in two.
We spit the salt from our mouths
and I took a log raft off your island.
Now I’ve drifted so far I don’t remember;
are these memories of a vacation I never took?
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