It would be great if

someone told me they

loved me today, though I

won’t expect it and

neither should you,

blue sea over there

shimmering under an

ungodly glare. Window on

to the horizon like a

painting I am making

in my mind, please let me

exist for you so that I

may go away soon. That

man with the funny hat there.

I sit beneath this beach um-

brella in Spain and turn

35-years-old while my

friends doze on lounge chairs

close to mine. The sound of

the waves reminds me of

the womb. I am in Florida

again and there is no ocean

between us. 35-years-old

and no children – no you,

either. Hey: still alive.