~the rain poems~

~salt~

I picked the salt from underneath my fingernails with my teeth.

She was there; next to me.

She liked vegetable soup and slam poetry and long socks and 

kissing me.

I tasted the salt on her lips. The same salt that hid under my fingernails.

We laid together; silence clouding my ears.

She liked white walls and soft music and lemon tea and 

my fingers in her hair.

My salty fingers in her salty hair. Her salty lips on my salty lips.

Our toes touched briefly. She even has beautiful toes, I'm sure.

Waves crashed into us, crashed her into me.

Her breaths were gentle and wispy and probably salty too.

She liked strawberry milk and thick yarn and 80 degree days and 

not so happy endings.