The catamaran sat in the driveway. We’d bounce and lay and finger
hadn’t touched
water in years you say
“It happened after separation”
She’d sun topless, tie dye elastic cutting into her hips
before she had implants
Spilling over into orange, blue, green
I sat at the edge, counting oysters
You ask, Where’s my pearl?
She strokes herself, the water ripples.
