A Saturday in Santa Cruz

He rescues me in ways he doesn’t even realize. With his warm voice and sweet kisses. Like harmony and honey. I watch the Ferris wheel along the boardwalk spin round and round. A colorful pinwheel surrounded by the scent of pink cotton candy and kettle corn. We are belly laughs and rose gold cheeks. I cannot fully describe this feeling in my stomach. Something like joy and nostalgia and I’m looking at him and realizing he is my future.

Fading Lights & Ferris Wheels

You tasted like beer every time you kissed me. The cheap kind, because that’s all we could afford. “I’m going to make you my wife one day.” It’s so easy to make promises of forever when you are so young. But I believed every word, listening to the waves crash in the darkness; a satiation I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. You were terrible for me, but I recall you so beautifully.

Pitter Patter

They look at me unknowingly. A creature of a mythical past. Hair of cinnamon sprinkles and fins of urban legend scales. Windmills of honey and grim reaper tales. I flip over sea shells and breathe with aquamarine lungs. Scarlet eyes and white lights. Magic combs and unknown explorers. They crave curiosity, but fear the unexpected.

Sour Patch Smiles

We waltz into the late afternoon, feet up on teal chairs and eyes under chandeliers of fans. Linen tablecloths, linen napkins, out in the terrace room. Two of a kind, the perfect team. We are a Monday kind of King and Queen.

St. Thomas

I could live like this. In the sweat and solstice sun over the Atlantic. I could stay like this. Chasing rising moons and the heat of the night. Listening to the beat of the wind and that hummingbird’s song.