We jumped into your car that night and drove down to the shore, taking the long way through the highway, windows rolled down fingers making trails through the hard-hitting air. We played the music loud and the lights slurred like our tongues trying hard to pronounce the words that were beating out of the stereo. The cars beside us were like animals threatening to swallow us hole, maybe we were tired, maybe we were rushing, or maybe we were just high on each other. The stars were cliche and the moon was new, the air crisp like the snapping of the gum in your mouth.

The waves crashed strong against the sand, grainy against our bare feet and bodies. The top of your T-Bird Convertable was down, the music still beating our tongues still slurring while we danced to the beat of maybe the music/ maybe the crashing waves/ maybe our hearts like spirit drums in our ribcages. We danced like the soul of the world inhibited us, knocked back liquor, kissed with alcoholic mouths sharing a poison we both knew we could never fight.

I don't think I could ever forget the curves of your body, the feel of your fingertips or the marks you left across my back with your black fingernails. The look in your eyes, wet with salty water or maybe tears, glistening like the traces of silver in the sand. Reflectiong the moonlight like the sea. The things you said, the things you sang, the things you did with the alcohol beating through you.

We woke up in the back seat, empty bottles littering your T-Bird. Our heads were pounding, bodies weak but entangled so we couldn't mind as much as we would have wanted to. We couldn't complain as much as we may have begged to. You didn't drive me home that day, we checked into a motel with chlorine bleaching it's balconies from all the kids running from the pool. We fell asleep to re-runs of a show we never watched as children, pretending to be nostalgic about memories we never made. Memories like this one, that we'll remember one day only as a story written with pixellized letters. You can't forget things that never happen; but you can savour them all the same.