This antique shop smells of sea
salt and algae, so we exercise
our lungs and search for a maritime
telescope to ignite the whole world, make
ships on Atlantic horizons swell large
like rising tides. In our motel you carry
the ice bucket back; the cubes surround
Moscato. I watch you through
the peep hole. The closer you come
the larger you get, and soon the ocean
of your eye eclipses the porthole.
When you step inside a sextant
shines in your hand, and I know you
will speak to the stars in the dark—
our bodies tangled to constellation.
Kayla Rae Candrilli received a Bachelors and Masters in Creative Writing from Penn State University and is a current MFA candidate at the University of Alabama. Candrilli was awarded first place in Vela Magazine’s non-fiction contest for women, and is published or forthcoming in The Chattahoochee Review, Puerto del Sol, CutBank, The Boiler, Pacifica Literary, among others.
Photography by Pascal Combes-Knoke & Matt Landsman.