“I used to think that if I kept the light, I could keep you” —Claude Monet

Crisp seawater takes 
you away from me,
and I call back to you 
but you can’t hear me;
the waves getting too harsh,
I want to tell you I love you, 
but that’s okay— maybe another 
day, when the waves are quiet. 
I watch as the sky gets light,
inviting the coastline to come alive. 
I want to tell you but never 
is the right time. 

Please, let me keep you, 
come to the shore, 
I’ll throw a party for you
and only you, just for us,
I’ll have your favorite liquor 
on the top shelf, play your favorite songs,
but the tide comes in and the moon
is begging for its legislators,
and just like that you’re gone.