As my sandalwood candle goes out
wisping smoke into the witching hour
I dream of ocean waves.
Crashing like lightning, the froth
inedible foam of the goddess
blooming, the revelation rise and fall
from grace, upon my skin
staining my hair, weighing
down my eyes.
Sand fills my mouth, saltpeter,
teeth against teeth.
Gooseflesh across my tongue, skin,
dinnerplate. This year,
winter wind
blows cold and frost
tastes like peppermint
saltwater-from-Atlantic-City
taffy.