But it goes away in the wind

like the smell of a flower on a salty day.

Your voice in my ear
and the mornings I would wake up aching for the weight
of your body
on top of mine.

But it goes away in the wind, felt for only a second
before salty air replaces the feeling.

It goes away like the quick scent of a rose
someone dared to plant

too close to the harbor.

And how could it ever grow there? That’s not where roses grow.

I don’t mind. We’re always told to appreciate
what we have
to let go
but I am angry

a little angry

at the person who brought that beautiful flower somewhere it didn’t belong.

Because I would have been happy
with the salty air
the freedom
I would have been happy
watching men catch fish
I would have been happy
watching the boats and the sunset
I would have been happy with the
market, the fresh crab, the cracked shells
the licked fingers, the melted butter.

Yes, I would have been happy for all of that.

if I hadn’t gotten a small

tiny taste

of that rose.

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