Here we honeymooned—Los Brisos Hotel—view the same, room the same, private balcony, hammock perfect for lovemaking.   Pacific waves carried us, tossed us, filled our swimsuits with sand.  I can afford more at the bar today, order Margaritas at the pool—going back, back through the dark labyrinth, so many detours to the sun—face older, body thicker, feet more tired.

after the earthquake
the old hotel
stands