My Caramel Dot

It’s caramel.

The dot in my iris

Otherwise green as Chinatown jade.

We were surfing in spring,

Together but alone in the black sea.

Paddled until our fingers wouldn’t hold together,

Pale like the roots of flowers.

We lit a fire on the beach for lunch.

I was telling a tale, as usual

And didn’t see the spark.

I don't mind the burn.

The pain was over quickly

Unlike childbirth

Unlike heartbreak.

I don't mind being marked. It remembers

Hanging our rash guards in trees like pennants,

A sentinel grey whale just beyond the break,

Fresh sticky buns from the bakery

When we bathed like chickadees over their sink,

Us two curled together like foxes under tarp at night.

My caramel dot is sun freckles and curls gone wild with salt.

My caramel dot is the tranquility of deep sleepy waters rolling under me.

My caramel dot is when the coast made me hers.