Vacation

Sea salt hair

Sunkissed cheeks

Brightly colored bikinis

She smells like sun bum sunscreen,

which never seems to stop her from getting burnt

She has sand coating her feet,

which never seems to go away 

even when she showers.

She has an iced coffee in hand

(or a tea— she isn’t particular)

The wild, summer girl wakes up for sunrise,

And she stays up well past sunset.

She laughs freely.

She is sunkissed, carefree and bold.

She is me

(but not really.)

She has no worries and no fears.

She’s who I wish I was.

But when vacation ends, she slips through my fingers, 

like the sand of the beaches she lays on.

Holding on to her is futile,

like trying to hold onto the ocean she floats in.

At least she’s only ever a flight away.