Cape May, NJ

Sometimes I get this pull in my stomach when I see pictures of Cape May, New Jersey.

The lighthouse. The downtown. The victorian houses.

Like when you’re really thirsty and you have to down a glass of water right away

but once you do it doesn’t feel any better, you just feel really sick.

I miss the sea and the sand fleas itching in my swim suit.

Waking up in the middle of the night with sand at the bottom of your bed 

and my lips cracked by the sun.

Seeing the moon wobbly on the waves.

Building castles with wall upon wall hoping to protect it from the rising tide.
Jellyfish dead on the beach and in the sea and the dolphins eating away at them,

their voices echoing under the water.

Crabs pinching your feet  and bodysurfing into the legs of a wader.

Biking the streets to ice cream at the candy kitchen and to the stroll.

My family and your family eating dinner together

and playing on the beach late at night with no one but the ghosts crabs to see us.

The salt water taffy at the pier and your dad’s fishing trips and his fish chowder.

What I wouldn’t give to swim out deep, passed the break, to where I can’t touch

and where the water slips over my head as I dive down in a dare to touch the ocean floor.