he says to mail him jellyfish, a school. he says he'll suck
the salt & remember our beach day when we slathered
our tentacles in his girlfriend's high-proof suntan lotion,
drinking Coronas & Corona lites, a bucket between us,
sword of ice. I brown like butter, he burns like bees.
I can't swim but we fade out into the drown-us waves
where no one can see me lose the bikini bottoms, curl
into him. hermit crabs ditch their shells for newer,
prettier ones, is a lesson you think you learn when
your mom buys you that first boardwalk pet, but really
it's you who believes the new shell more beautiful, you
who urges the poor guy out from his emerald green life
into this new pink-peachy one. past the waves, the ocean floor
is too far for toes to touch, but the water is calm & bright.