This time we visit the beach to
escape our longevity. We ask the
ocean to tell us its secrets, the art
of rising and dying and mutating all
at once. We sit along the water’s
edge, summer projecting on our skin--
the wounded sunset, the sky split wide
open, your body folding into mine--this
is ephemeral. The cicada’s ricochet breath.
You fish out a lighter, put your finger on the
ignition. And I swear I can taste it in my mouth,
slick with cheap cologne and rose water.
The night stretches across the ocean, our
bodies now infected with knowledge of beauty.
We undress ourselves, your life abrading into mine
until we shake off our shells, once again, reborn.
Patrick Wang is a senior at Northview High School. His writing has been recognized and published by the New York Times, American High School Poets, Write the World, Canvas Lit Mag, among others. When he isn’t writing, he is busy studying nutrition for HOSA and working on his art, which recently served as the cover for the Daphne Review. He is a proud defender of minority voices, his favorite television shows, and the Oxford comma.