My dream’s ocean makes me giddy. The pleasure of it. In my dreams, the waves and the moon and the horizon rush into me all at once. The ocean is not vast, it can be poured into my lap.
You take my hand. Our backs are against concrete because the ocean has walls in my dreams. There is a fire blazing too close, embers in the dark blue, thick night. He comes running, kisses me on my cheek and disappears. No one notices, but me.
We are pinned in — you and I. Threatened by the waves, intimidated by the half moon that hangs like a dagger above us — waiting, it seemed, to slip down and pierce us together. I am worried.
I grasp your hand urgently. You laugh at me. You tell me not to worry. The waves will not take me. You promise.