Lose your smile by Clara Owens

i remember when standing next to you didn’t make my skin crawl and i wanted you, just like that 

we were standing on the shore, looking into the ocean 

and you said, let’s walk in and drown in there. 

that summer, i could’ve stayed with you forever 

there was a blue quilt and blue walls and at night we could hear the waves because we’d leave the window open just a crack, 

and you always kept some seaglass on the nightstand. 

and you’d make me shower outside so i wouldn’t get any sand in the house, but i still brought in the sand anyway. 

you said you never really liked the beach, but i know that was a lie. 

because 

tomorrow is your birthday, and i’m in a country with no coastline, wondering if there’s any salt in your saliva or sand in your sheets, and if she showers on the outside like you asked her to. 

and i’m wondering if your cake will have blue frosting, sprinkles and strawberries, and will you smile when you close your eyes. 

this summer I dream of cold climates and freshwater, 

hills and valleys and no shells. 

this time i will cut my feet on the rocks and ill be happy when it rains. i will run away in the mud until 

i forget all of the blue things that exist. 

sometimes when i think of you, you’re laughing 

and sometimes i see no face at all. 

i wonder if your skin would turn blue if you really did drown in the ocean, and if you would dare to go in without me. 

sometimes i wished the current would take me under, 

to the place where the sun shines through the foam above, 

and the wave breaks hard, enough to scrape my knees on the sand. but those weightless bubbles always seemed to push me back up to the surface, like invisible hands trying to save me. 

i wonder if this is what it would feel like to be suspended in a carbonated drink, looking up at the sky with eyes wide, 

waiting to sink. 

i had a dream i could breathe underwater, 

i could sit on the sea floor and open my eyes, without burning them and down there i wouldn’t have to think of you. 

all of my problems float up abo

ve the surface 

the waves crash, but they don’t hurt me.

and the sun shines through the bubbles, like the eye of heaven crying on me. i’d stay there forever, 

until i wake up and remember my land is dry and my river doesn’t have waves. you’re on the beach with all the blue things and 

i still think of you, all the time.