Cutchogue

The first time I ever traveled
By water to see you
Was in August
Across the sound I grew up on

Your cousin was married
And your brother got drunk
And we watched the bees harvest
Honey like factory workers
In a crowded sanctuary.

Vodka tonic was our poison and I bled
But you didn't care
We lived in someone else's house
Woke up in someone else's sheets
And it was nice, living
A temporary rented life with you
No matter how ephemeral.

I sailed away on a hot afternoon
Dragging my possessions through the dirt
On the very edge of that pretend island
The one I had never stepped foot on before

And I told myself I wouldn't cry
I wouldn't let the fear of distance
Engulf me
I wouldn't let my doomed apprehensions
Own me
But we both knew that was fruitless.

They let you on
Even though you didn't have a ticket
And you sat with me
Temporarily
As I put on a facade
And tried to act braver than I was
With no avail.

Our skin was sweaty and salty from the sea
Our hair was windswept
The sun was in our eyes
And I loved you
More than I think I ever have
Because I knew
I was going to leave you soon

And I did.