Ted and Sarah live near a silky sand beach.
They never go to the beach,
a convenient ten minute drive.
They could go. But they don’t.
They do not discuss going on a sunny day
and decide not to go.
The question doesn’t come up.
What prevents them from enjoying the beach?
The indelible memory of unpleasant sensations
deep in their corporeal cells.
The burning sun.
The desert harsh shore.
The sticky sun block lotion.
The sting of sweat dripping into eyes.
The harassing seagulls after sandwich bread.
Sand stuck to feet.
Without a thought,
their bodies reject the beach.
Without a thought,
they don’t pack up the car and go.