The streets that night smelled like oyster shells, like nights on the beach and your sea-drenched hair.

I had worn my best jeans, boots, and because you wanted swagger,

my leather jacket, and your favorite cologne,

the one you said reminded you of bourbon and stories with a bad ending.

You had gone femme with a red sequin dress, black heeled shoes that made you taller than me,

and a scent that whispered of secrets in bed.

We laughed at this because baby, we knew

that despite what it seemed, you were butch as stone, but the girls would go for me.

I would give them a dance, a nod and a smile, and head right back to you

and the taste of salt in your kiss.

ground hardened by frost underfoot

the bluff above the sea

waves in hushed ebb and flow

currents circling above the ocean floor

gathered expectations, accumulated desires, stray dreams

drop into the vast rhythmic pulse

like stones they sink, like debris

that weighed heart and mind

eventually ripples fade

breath matching water’s motion

with empty hands and lightened step depart

able to see the oat grass sway unfrozen now