the bay

I’m somewhere in between midnight
and sunrise, a place I like to be.
when I awake, stars above the bay
are clearer than my memories.
I watch new stars appear,
like bubbles in a pot of boiling water,
then listen to the sleeper beside me,
trying to remember who she is
and how we got this far.
I don’t remember driving
to this room overlooking a bay –
don’t remember our names,
or what we did the day before.
all I remember is the feeling
of turning right or left around corners.
for now it’s enough just to be forgetful
and take whatever the night offers:
above the bay, twinkling birthmarks.