Solstice Party (After) by Kelsey Sipple

Solstice Party (After)


giddy and 18, eating cheesecake in a sandy parking lot – We make our way down to the jetty – shell bits and litter crunch and slip underfoot – & the sun hasn’t melted yet – pink sherbet dripping over sea grit, into barnacles, sugared and slick – I have just lost my body to an invasion – only once – only for a little while – just enough to want to be high all the time but not enough to cry – But when it’s dark, the coastline will light up – bioluminescence – tide pools prickling with tiny stars – do they always? have I been missing things? – How lucky are we to live at sea level – to be able to walk off a continent as we please – & I dream of stepping off, slowly dissolving in icy brine – discarding before – no longer afraid of hands, never a flash flood on Route 6 scouring it all, after. We will weigh the night quiet, soft on our learning shoulders – cupping the excess in cold fingers – understanding – sunset on the longest day is just like any other sunset – but we will remember it better –We will exhale – melt, too