Open Water

"Do you ever get scared?” I asked; I traced my fingers along the sand.
“Of what?” you replied; you made mountains out of the grains.
“Of everything” I answered; I buried my fingers in between yours .
“Yes” you whispered; you crushed each mound we made.


“Do you ever wish you were someone else?” I asked; I tasted the water with my toes.
“Forever, or just for a day?” you replied; you dived in the waves head first.
“Forever” I answered; I cupped the white caps in my hands.
“Yes” you whispered; you wiped the salt water from your eyes.


“Do you ever get up but not wake up?” I asked; I held my shoes in one hand.
“In the morning or in the night?” you replied; you held your arms out to keep your balance.
“Anytime of day” I answered; I walked barefoot along the pier.
“Yes” you whispered; you fell off the edge and rippled the water.


“Do you ever say you love someone, when you don't?” I asked; I tried to count the stars.
“Anyone, or you?” you replied; you picked a thread from my jeans.
“Me” I answered; I closed my eyes and swallowed.
“yes” you whispered; you held your hand out and cried when I still took it.