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Show CHRYSALIS PAGE 74 on fishing lines out into the waves, and he was the shrill cries of seagulls. I knew what his favorite color was and he thought I was a "fairy princess." We sat in our shallow sandstone cave and looked out at the ocean. We ate tuna fish sandwiches, and Mark wrote I LOVE YOU on the brown lunch bag and hid it in a hole in the rocks. (Sometime, in fifty years or so, we'll go back, a little wrinkled, white-haired lady and gentleman, holding hands, to see if it is still there.) Our bodies were covered with sand and salt. We laughed and were happy and alone in the world. I never said "I love you" to anyone else. Our footsteps cross the shifting wind where sandpipers dance down the shore. You buy bananas-on-a-stick that taste of salt or tears, before we lie upon that glimmering bed below the cliffs where tides have left shells like wet, white bones, and sleep christcrossed where sky and earth are cleft by sea and froth. |