he says he likes me salty,
the taste of iron on my skin, the lemon on my tongue
he doesn’t mind my company, or the men i keep on speed dial
he knows they’re only ghosts of a love i never could keep
for he’s just like me
gentle, bittersweet
taking care to not capsize
suspended over an abyss so deep that if we ever dared jump in again, it’d be the last they’d see of us.
he says he likes me salty…
even after i’ve climbed up from the seabed for the fourth time in a row
he doesn’t know the strength it takes to not stay down there for good
because every once in a while, when the fog breaks across the pacific
i remember what it’s like to look for that lighthouse in the distance
and find my way home without it.
still salty
just how he likes me.













