A new poem by Waikato poet Loren Thomas.

 

to convince myself we’re dreaming

we were walking through suburbia
houses kissing front lawns
copied one after another

you tasted like mint leaves
and chlorophyll
that’s been pissed on by cats

I held your hand
and we walked towards the ocean
dodging planks from dead train tracks
one way out one way less
you told me to watch out for loose nails

I held your fingertips
dry in mine
and smiled until I met the
line where black sand met sea foam

I dipped my toe
tested the bathwater
the cool of it swam through my skin
up my frame
and I let go of you

waded deeper
until hips met damp
dug my nails into stomach

when I opened
I opened red
the seaweed paper cut
my edges
and salt rimmed my openings
like a margarita glass

running my fingers over them
the tips were strawberry-stained
I turned around to show you
but there weren’t even footprints
not even a second thought

and I stood there
holding myself apart
the curtains in suburbia
all shut
when the lights went out.