It is such a nice evening that I comment on your appearance,
how your eyes appear deep like the ocean,
and you give me that old eye-roll, as if you could not
believe that I would comment on the ocean when
I know it is forty miles away.
A sprinkler is goes off in the yard next door,
and children are shouting in the still-hot evening as
they play tag or
Follow-the-Leader.
A sea gull screams,
far away from its home.
My t-shirt seems to be second skin, stuck to my back
like melted plastic, and I take a small sip of coca-cola.
Recycle the bottle when you are done, you
say patiently, as if you are a goddess
trying to explain to a mere
mortal how the universe works.
All in the name of love, I answer.
I chuckle to myself, and
trace my fingers over
the three arrows shaped in a triangle on the back of
the bottle that has a secret meaning
I alone am meant to
discover.
-Published in Offcourse Magazine
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