"Bae" by Eva Valenti
What could I say about you that Mark didn't say,
Belly-laughing at your moodiness and your chilly caprices in August
You're a deceptive beauty,
Your starry-eyed pilgrims find themselves shuddering at your shores, before them the remainders of a bread bowl soaking on a wire bistro table, awaiting seagulls,
The hastily acquired fleece bearing your name,
Gazing out over the pier into your gray depths, you can hear them murmur: we forgive you, we forgive you, we forgive you
What could I say about you that Maxime didn't say,
Bellies aching from laughter, propped up against grassy mounds,
We swim through you as if through a dream
Retreating for dinner at a friend's place; we are at home wherever we go
Tumbling down hills, we are all your children, youthful and crackling with your electricity
What could I say about you that Stephen didn't reverently sing,
A believer in the intoxicating triumph of your lights rising over rooftops or the bridge,
A grandeur requiring no self-consciousness despite being much tinier than that of your peers,
A sincerity that we all acquire the gift of expressing -
Nothing compares to coming home to you.