Isthmus

Love and such.

Meet me by the ocean, green-eyed boy
(though miles away it rests)
and we shall find Panama.
That through salt and glass and sand,
through space
we might grow together,
fingers fusing
melting like plastic in a bonfire of
teenage devotion. 
 

Once connected we will stretch
across these stiff waters,
an isthmus,
to support seperated lovers in a search
for innocence and the beach.