There Is Always Space in My Life for More Life
Which is why I swallowed the pill on the beach
in the south of France. Which is why when you said
let’s walk one and a half hours to the Ethiopian restaurant,
I put on my shoes and locked the door behind me.
Now I’m surrounded by this bluegreen water, air
bright with cicadas. I couldn’t be happier. Not even
if you. I felt the pill working, declared this is the point
of it all: clear blue water, two bees buzzing. I watched
teenagers jump off the dock, twenty eight of them,
one for each year of my life. Later, Jeff ordered
dinner in perfect French and I became bloated
with pride. We stepped on a boat then off. Sampled
gelato, asked for the bathroom. On the flight
home, I admired the new color of my hands. Why
would I ever close the shades, with all this good light?
***
Author photo by Annabel Graham
