Invasive species, anonymous violence, double negative, only daughter.
The wildflowers were blue that summer.
I wake up covered
with his poison ivy
Flowering.
The morning and the early signs of the fires.
Pinches the sky. Lush in a haze.
Collecting like fog.
Sweat sticks to the softest part of my thighs.
I close my eyes and dream of the freckles on his back.
A young American.
Hideous.
In August we began watching the ocean at night.
The waves travel miles to reach the coastline and break into whatever.
Energy dissipates.
It becomes dark, racing forward to break.
And when it breaks it grows deeper.
And at the bottom of it is just hell.
Paradise has to be beautiful.
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