It’s been so long
that it seems like I’ve never
been to the San Juans.
Can we go soon?

Girl slow down with me.

If we leave now
we can catch the last boat out,
and that’s the best one,
on this clear night
under pin-prick light.

The wind on the boat’s deck
is a cold hand on the neck
or slipping into our cold bed.

It’s been so long
that it seems like I’ve never
danced with anyone.

She moves so well.

If we go outside
we can take in a haze of
Roche Harbor light
and drink a bottle of red wine,
forgetting to tell time.

Just sit still,
we’ve moved enough.