when I think about us love I still see a beach white and crisp and I hear the cries of gulls and I hold your hand and we walk down beside the waves and you don't disappear and there is no red light shining in over our heads and I can hear your pulse and you sip whiskey straight, maybe with ice, maybe just mixed with the salt of seawater and I dip my fingers in and trace your lips; they say seawater and blood have the same salinity but that's a lie else I would find some way to pour the ocean into your mouth and be done with it