Cosmopolitan Beaches

We didn't like the memories we had

So we decided one night,

without anyone's advice,

that we'd make new ones. Our own.

Ours alone. Not "we", but "me".

But my memory tangles with yours

And we are lost in the kisses of tonight

Your name tastes like fine wine

as the oak bleeds into heavy words

like "idiosyncratic" or "attenuated".

Our cups hold far too much. We overflow

into each others lap. We drink ourselves dry

so the rain won't feel cheated.

In the midst of it all, I remember that

we are just echoes of a quieter voice

heard through the clarity of life and anger.

This will not come again. Not for several moons.

We will think "you should have been there with me.

This memory should have been ours. Not yours. Not mine."