Sea Salt Sable
The sea, atonement. My father is researching the heart, so I call him. He says it's not heart-shaped. That was something I didn't know. It's been twenty-five years since I knew that. It is easier to see it as soft, sweet, delicate. It's all cupid-looking. It's not. It is hard, rough, and weathered. There are veins, ventricles and all sorts of unpleasant-looking things that they don't list on their hallmark cards. I remember the heart necklace that I shared with my best friend as a child, and then I recall the same necklace that I gave my next best friend. I think about my other half, where they go, and what happens if mine turns to rust. There are many things I think about. It could be the first time I got a cold or caught a fish and how it affected my life. My first love is what I think of and his current plans. My heart beats again, but I don't know why. It feels almost like a confession. Summer.