Upon Departure from the Cape

the Cape's blue cloak
unfurls in the
wind, it sneaks by the car windows,
prickles hairs on my skin
as though seducing them, calling
them towards the ocean
and as I stare, tempted,
you (the rational
one) push on towards the highway

bringing my arm inside the car, my fingers
linger beside yours, feeling the need
to move further but remaining frozen,
as though caught
between shifting tides

I'm pressed against the window
pane again and all I can see is a mist
of blue, but I know
that it's hard to breathe sometimes
with all that salt inside your lungs