Crash

Crash

.

.

.

When summer and youth crash

Waves crash

And stretch on into the mist forward

Where will my toes touch

Crunching sand and shell and glass and bottle caps

Burnt skin to heal and peel and burn again

So far back when the night hangs heavy, hurting

What jump

What jump

Joy screams with the crash on hip, sideways to the pummeling force

I will cut through

But not all the way out

Not too far

Not to where I can’t see one face

Just one face that may be watching 

Can you see me jump?

Do your toes crunch sand too?