โI felt giddy at the idea of a man crossing an ocean and then an island for me, even as small as Puerto Rico was. We walked from the deck and into the sand, and under the palms watched the waves roll, crash, foam, and retreat onto the beach. I carried my sandals. The night filled with the sounds of crickets and coquis, the tiny singing frogs, and the smells of salt and the sweet decay of seaweed. Each wave shined blue-green, the crashing causing the bioluminescence, the same flash weโd seen while kayaking in the bay a few days earlier in the โBio Bayโ of Vieques.A blue-green glow zippered across the sand with each wave, the foam a patchwork of neon.
Thatโs when Sancho kissed me, and his broad mouth and soft lips took me by surprise, even though Iโd been waiting two days, or maybe my lifetime, for a kiss to happen like that, on the edge of an island, between two palms, under a sky canvassed with stars. My toes splayed out onto the sand, the ground below me, shifting.โ