wet with the remains of memories
of a day when trees sashayed double time
lime in her glass of Pacifico
a reflection of the ocean in her eyes
the sound of wind in her hair
a wind so fair and dry to the touch
of the arch of her back and I chugging
in the sand to keep up, wondering
why she drips so with water of the sea
fairy splashes that make sinkholes in sand
that last only seconds then bear themselves
and me to some lair within and below
sallow invisible trembling hollow trees
those trees we both have come to love
so much
