Women On The Beach

You're pretending
moments of happiness change something.

You're posing for pictures,
a smile on your face.

The beach is real, and the surf,
but we can't know for sure
if it's loving us back,

if this will save us,
this one day,
with salt crusting our hair,
stripping our studied dignities.

Your laughter
doesn't echo here.

Are you writing this down?
Wouldn't this make
a good story?

--when the day has dried, when
you're alone again,

hoping there was a reason,
hoping
you did well--


for easystreet prompts #660.