Love bites
from cupping
for 90 minutes or so
he says
to the woman
he’s known most
of his adult life.

She wants to believe
in something (or someone)
besides what the unreliable
narrator of her memories
whispers whenever
she gets close
to the water’s edge.

A pier, a bank,
a jetty, a buoy, a bridge
in suspension.

The voice
calms her
into a false
sense of relief.
They really do park
cars diagonally
on Circuit Avenue.