Nicole Marie Curtis

Riding these waves

Virginia Woolf and I ramble down PCH.
Alongside the water, it’s art and sense.

She guides me now that I’m alone,
and she’s waited a long damn time for her moment.

The waves
are crashing at Bolsa Chica.

Home is here, and I am thinking about my first boogie board,
my first sail, and my first time kissed on a pier.

I ended up far away from formative things,
ignoring sand in the coochie of my suit.

On my wedding day, Virginia’s in my ear.
She says, Not yet.

I spent so many years trying to contradict
something someone maybe possibly thought.

Child bride, gold digger, damaged, drunk,
bimbo, sad, daddy issues, you name it.

Until a breaker popped, and I could not remember why.
My sister says a lady knows when to leave.

This legend, my girl, isn’t mad at me.
I was a little woman arrested in development.

Every time I thought of rocks,
Virginia sent a friend, instead.

You can get that room of your own.
She repeated it often.

In this noisy shack on Ocean,
I believe her.

Nicole Marie Curtis is a poet, fiction author, sailor, camper, hiker, daughter, sister, and aunt. She was born in La Porte, Indiana and raised in Whittier, CA. She holds onto those Midwestern roots and celebrates growing up in Los Angeles County. Her work focuses on family and its effect on the individual, the deconstruction of a woman’s self, and the rebuilding of intimate relationships, romantic, friendly, or familial. She lives and works in Southern California.