:::
I really did love you.
Don't forget that.
The small cove
reflected a clear sky.
When I stepped into the water
with my bare feet,
the cold sliced into me.
I'd ridden on the back of his motorcycle that day.
We were pursuing the sunset
and came upon this secret place.
The initials we carved
into the wet rock
are calling back lost time.
Even if I removed my bracelet
and buried it in the sand,
the white band of skin around my wrist
wouldn't vanish, now would it?
The initials we carved
back in that long-gone summer
glitter as they sway under the waves.
I'm sitting on the edge of a boat
from which the colors have faded
from long contact with the sand.
I'm tossing pebbles
at my memories.
Low tide in the glass cove
doesn't last very long.
I didn't shed many tears either.
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