|yesterday, a woman
approached me at the beach, saying
"you look like you belong here..."
wish it were true that i lived on maui,
but for now i must settle for having
become a tourist's notion of "local."
for me, being here is a stripping away
of the inessential. for my last swim, i
brought only goggles, camera, salad,
notebook, and almond milk--which
might sound like a lot, but i left behind
shirt, chair & towel, so it felt minimal.
headstand to drain my mind, filled
it back up with fresh aquatic visions.
test negative, time to go home.
been joking that departing flights are
fueled by tourist tears, but mine
was delayed because they were
still topping off and i pictured the passengers
being hooked up to eye-milking machines.
planes fly as high
as the ocean is deep, which
makes them submarines. i surfaced at
hit the jackpot at baggage claim roulette,
escalator screech welcomed me back.