To the heart shaped rock
along the beach in Brehat,
Climbing the cliffs,
exploring the tide pools,
wandering through sweet fruit bearing gardens;
this must be
But, how bland the stars must seem to you,
constant as the tide that drowns you,
Have the bitter waters dulled your edge?
The moon has pulled back
since I have felt the kiss of that salty air.
I do not remember the sun
that beat down on my curls
the day we found you,
among the pebbles that framed your charms.
I do not remember the cold tongue
of the ocean
lapping my feet and ankles.
I do not remember the rough bike seat
carrying my weight
across the bridge
that connects the north and south of the island.
Do you remember?