Untitled 4

"Because you never forget people on this coast, Rose.
And some people never forget.

I'm sitting on a chair today, but the water was cold that day.
My thoughts intertwined with the grass of June.

The radio played
"In The Springtime of His Voodoo"

A foreshadow.
But I don't need to talk about that day.
Where's the heat I deserve?
In the spring.
Out of reach.
I want you to open my brain and senses, convulsively."