I dreamed of the waves

I dreamed of the waves.

Not the lapping slow lull of the sea

that day in San Clemente where

the burritos were so juicy and full

and your laughter sparkled

echoed over gentle waters

Carried only whole sounds of

endless summer nights to come

Carried me across the sand and tackled

me into the dark cave beneath the crumbling tower

where we kissed hungrily.

Our toes grainy with sand and our mouths eschewing breath for another taste.

Hidden in shadow,

our breasts pressing feverishly together

our smooth skin, our long hair

tangled impossibly.

And oh what a dream that would be

to reminisce on in these tombstone days

when the sky is sleet

and my sink is filled with one cup, one saucer.

But no, my love.

I tossed all night as if in a great tsunami

with ferocious swells of oceanic force

that tumbled me, disoriented me

Picked me up and swirled me as if it were nothing

as if I were a nightgown in a downpour

lightening striking on wet white cotton.

Picked me up as if I were you

in the hospital bed when the whirring stopped.

and the nurses left.

and the tubes were given respite from their post and retired to their racks on the wall.

And it was only you

And I

And tangled as we were, I had to part.

I had to part.

Forgive me the laughter.