In the Cove

I liked the crashing.
I liked the waves and the stinging red,
the tempestuous mermaid,
but I cannot pretend I liked us there. You
with your bucket and umbrella,
suspicious camera clicking every
movement. The way you carefully waded,
taking the tide as a testimonial,
one foot moving shipwrecked crabs -
and all the while, I was already out
there waiting, seaweed in my eyes,
and the milk-eyed walrus at my side.
We stayed floating and waiting until
you looked like a human caught,
landlocked, like we had never met
and never would recognize this.