Permanent.

My body in the rear view mirror strong as waves.

An eight year old kissing my nose.

Nothing mattering other than

I'd do anything for

I'd part the ocean, knead it as dough,

for this beautiful, smart person.

He knew the riddles written in the stars.

He played with me to add buoyancy I needed.

That was before the break.

That was before years of gaining so much weight

my knees could not carry my body

up the dunes.

That was before the sea knocked the breath out of me.

In my falling you were hurting too and I could not help you then.

The year the dolphins chose me

will always be with me.

The look in your eyes

left behind

a child whose mother feared sharks.

I would have taught you to drive then.

Aren't we glad I didn't?