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.