Birthday

after AS

The boatman

was a bus driver

who brought us

down from Anacapri

to the beach

when we said

we had no interest

in touring the Blue Grotto.

We changed

at a bodega

next to the corner

of sand and swam off.

It was cool, near

October, and you

retired early

to watch.

I fixed my goggles

to see yellow

angels escape

me, a crown

swirling to account

for itself.

I touched water

the color of Windex.

Locked in the changing

room—laughing with

shame—we may have

buoyed the sky.


SANDRA MARCHETTI is the author of Confluence, a collection of poetry from Sundress Publications (2015), and four chapbooks of poetry and lyric essays.