laie chicks

  This humidity looks good on you,

  crisp and curled like the welcome leaves

  encircling our necks and hearts.

  I never knew so many chickens had crossed the sea

  to lounge and loiter in America’s stolen paradise.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  The ocean roils and spits liquid flames,

  rattling tiny ocean crabs like bobbleheads

  in little grass skirts, eyes poking above the sand.

  We steal kisses like swimmers steal breaths

  and surfers steal waves and wind steals whisps

  of my long hair when we cruise through the island’s

  night, sweet bug fiddles matching us in pitch.

  Waves slap me silly, push bursts of silty sand

  into my skin as I cling to you, a red and white

  lifesaver six feet tall

  Let’s not go back.