Poetry, Abigail Ray
We drove the coastline until it stopped looking like a painted set
All blue and golden with the
red highlights along the highway
We visited two lighthouses and a far off planet
Your eyes watched the sea, and mine
watched the road, but caught glimpses of you when I could
We made love in a poet's room
Her eyes watching
Like the patron saint of strap-ons and dilated pupils
we saw four sunsets. Each better than the
last
I raced the sun and your hair blew out the window
Like some Alder bough
all moss and chestnut
We smoked on the beach and I tried hard to keep my heart in my chest as you
pointed out the By-The-Wind-Sailors
in their iridescent shades of opal and azul
You wore my poorly made hat and my jacket that fits you like a paper bag
Your hands were cold
And your nose was red
I was dressed to the nines in my Canadian tuxedo —- all raw denim and stolen glances
The perfect all-American boy
You kissed me when I said I find God when
I look at the sea
I kissed you when you said I'm the first person you’ve met who feels music the way you do
We ate halibut and big brownie sundaes
feasting on salty pleasure
You told me about the fish at the aquarium while I had a panic attack because we got too high
I took a polaroid of you looking out at the sea at night
Seeing God, I assume.
You took a polaroid of me in the bed we made our home away from home
I'd never looked better, and probably
never will again.
You asked me to be your girlfriend
Naked and lying on our stomachs
In that bed
The ocean a soundtrack to our conversation
I said "Yes" without hesitation.
I saw you in the afterglow
the setting sun creating halos around your
face
All orange and yellow
coloring your freckles in shades of want.
I found you in the Devil's Punchbowl
squinting up at the sun
wings tucked tightly to your body
You found me in the tide pools on strawberry hill
turning a high tide into a lagoon,
my seafoam locks shining copper despite the waves
living out my selkie dreams.
For you,
I will leave my coat folded up tightly in the shade of your nest any day
I wear it cropped but it fits you oversized
and billowy
My outline extricated from myself,
cocooning you in the shoulder seam that hangs loose near your elbow
Let the green of my threads marinate,
I swear you can feel the lull of the tides in the way the fabric moves along your body
the ebb and flow consistent with the way I hold you.
Abigail Ray (she/her) lives in Portland, Oregon and draws a lot of inspiration from the city, its residents, and the surrounding natural areas. She recently graduated from Portland State University with her BS in English and writing. She enjoys watching cartoons, playing with her oversized dog, and reading and writing in her spare time. Find her on IG @abisnail17.
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