1mo

we still felt

we couldn’t see most things
anymore
but it didn’t matter too much
our purpose was obligation
our eyes, dimming lanterns
broadcasting morse code to hibernating insects that would never wake
and illuminating flattened dune grass
on a worn path to
the bust
of an indifferent sea
drowning
was preferred
to our listless wading
but we refused to sink
into the rot below
containing things consumed from shore
and the bones of our failed marriage

and in that refusal, existed in a state
of perpetual loss
smoothed by the teeth of restless water

we suffered then like we suffered now
though the dullness of its delivery
often slid into our stomachs
unencumbered
without resistance or consideration

buoyancy for our flesh that only sought sand

exploding shapes were better than sunsets anyhow