Beautiful Summer (Poem)

Beautiful night, he said
and uncorked a bottle of wine
while the mosquitoes buzzed
in our ears
and the meat on the grill
reminded me of childhood.

Your legs were tan that summer, we
fought every afternoon when I’d
squint with drunk
and expect you to
understand my every thought

the creek was cold and I’d float in its
salty, muddy water like
a dog panting
smiling
approval.

One night while boiling
those screaming lobsters
you dropped a glass
on the floor
and it shattered with shrieking
hate across linoleum
and I slammed a screen door
into the yard, burned
brush and searched for kindling

our dog at my bitten
ankles pink tongued
and breathless
hoping I wasn’t too mad to
forget to feed him.

And the sparkle of
your fear
the taste of the corn we boiled
the cheesecake
for desert and orange lobster flesh
passed unnoticed through my lips
chased by bourbon and breath
spit with words
so angry they
disappeared with regret into
the evergreens in the yard.

That beautiful summer when
we raced out into the white capped
ocean on Sunday mornings
after an apology walk
you watching me splash
and toss sand like a child
raised to be alone.