Crush

A grey sky breaks

silver, scratches pink wounds

to bleed over the ocean side

of the rock that holds you

to her. Crash and break of words,

chattering bubbles that trickle

back into the crevice

of her deep devotion, her

platonic love.

The Way of A Man

From the edge of their bed, she watches him sob.

He shakes off her cradling palm, curls into a tight, convulsive ball.

Not just a bad hangover, she realizes.

Appalled, she hiccups her words.

You can’t.

I won’t.

She doesn’t love you.

Dip

Six p.m. Eighty-five degrees when I hit the beach. I bob like a lobster bouy. Watch clouds redden. Plan dinner. The cormorants, perched in tiers on the rocks, keep sending out scouts. Damned seagulls circle above me. I know what they’re thinking.

  

Laws of Motion

Bursting from the forest, deer strewn in his wake, he crashes through the mosquito screen and dives under her bed. Moonlight glints off the salt-and-pepper fur of his quaking hind leg. Shaken, Megan wakes to the distant pop and flash of fireworks.