matheson hammock

i remember my heart swelled up that night and i erupted into an aria. we had ridden our bicycles like two small children down banyan-lined streets, their branches twisting toward the sky, forming coves and hiding places. admiring homes and imagining what our lives would be like in those places until the streets led us to the park, void of all human breath save the guard sleeping behind the gate. we wound around the yachts and the mangrove thickets, emerging at the lagoon- silver in the moonlight- beyond which we could see the lights of downtown and the beach. the distance was comforting. we climbed on the coral rocks and looked into the silver water, then mounted our bikes and rode, the moon shining from our t shirts and the blondest flecks of our hair. i pedaled fast to match my joy until the release became a song. the music was born from the most beautiful part of me and it rose above the wetland mangroves and into the humid air.