We can’t keep the waves back with the palms of our hands

we push against them, sand filling our shoes, yet the foam splashes and the waves keep coming down. Somewhere the sun is rising, but here it is night, and the waves are like blue glass, pushing against us. We try again, and fall over laughing, wave froth pushing against us, undertow threatening to drown us. The moon is a no moon and it’s an empty moon and the stars reflecting in the sky and the water around us. The lights of the city are far enough away that the dim orange glow is very dim, and the sky itself is full of only starlight.

When we stop for a moment and breath for a moment, the cool lake air is filled with lightning, and it fills our lungs with lightning. Some summer days were never meant to end, yet here we are, time and again, pushing palms against the waves, falling over, unable to keep the tide of time from drowning us.

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