montenegro

It was near the end,

and we fought more often than not,

but your body shattered the surface

of that shimmering, crisp mirror-bay

half a whole world away

and dove for that

skeletal, purple sea urchin

which you placed in my hand

after sweeping the hair

from the skin and teeth

of your bronzed face,

elbows clamped

to the edge of the boat.

 

It’s been eight years,

but that shell still sits on my dresser.

I picked you up from the airport

when you returned

from your hometown to mine,

and you kissed me goodnight

when we got to your house,

but it wasn’t the same

(it just wasn’t the same),

and my heart shattered all over again.