cape cod

water recedes & the beach goes bald, becomes a swamp,

reminds you of what we’re doing to the environment,

to ourselves

you stroll a good kilometer with your better half

before reaching its waters,

clear (seaweed notwithstanding) & bone-chilling 

like a truth serum

bodies adjust, lines of demarcation,

so, too, expectations, 

the exclusions or exceptions of the past

not far, you see that some are laughing, swimming,

have been braved despite recent shark attacks,

despite the conclusions, the holes we keep digging 

or falling into

you don’t know what to add or take back,

nor how to put into words what you don’t know

you’d like to share with your partner,

thus the two of you keep on strolling farther in,

the water now at your knees

traction in sand is practically nonexistent

& the sun’s hard to stare down,  

but iodine is what you came here to breathe in 

c. a. campos, 2012