when my best friend from university
tells me that he has just been accepted
to San Francisco State
I give him the reply
that when it comes time for me to fly and visit
I will meltdown
slide straight from the tarmac peaks
beyond the docks buffed by tourists’ feet
past the sea lions of pier thirty-nine
and into the Pacific
where I will float to the Golden Gate
and shake fins with the fish
dining under the red
beams in full sun
I will crash white
into the cliffs below
the reserve where my first Lover and I
hiked for miles and I learned to start
painting the wind with my fingertips
orchestrating color and love
when he walked ahead and above
onto the next trail
not to see how the rocks in the distance
ancient and jagged
called to me
and then I will recede
after I beat what remains
of Lover
in the heart
plastered to watery boulders
forgetting the shoulders
of one who crept over you
and when my body is limp
waves will swish
the flesh to the shoreline
where I will wash my skin with sand
hold seaweed in my mouth
starfish in my eyes
the hair of the anemone will rise and fall in the wind
and I will rebuild like sand castles erect
a broken body of salt
used to cleanse wounds
tides to wash the thighs
and places Lover felt that only rocks
should know
and then, only then, can I visit
San Francisco
to see my friend
© Julie Bolitho.“on visiting a friend” Poem. Bodies of Work. University of Cambridge Press: 2010, online edition found at: http://www.bodiesofwork.info/Contents.html
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