sometimes on gray mornings, we looked out at lighthouses in the distance just to conjure up foggy white-tipped feelings that changed with the tides changed with our salty sighs. we practiced seeing out of one eye and standing on one foot and breathing out of one lung. we prepared ourselves for a sudden death, and swore against last goodbyes. hello, rather. hello, at last. we are seeing each other for the first time and we are leaving leaving leaving eloping with the sea. a most hopeless situation, we couldn’t choose between the torn curtains or the broken armchairs or the faceless photographs behind plastic covers. instead we painted the edges of our eyes black and talked about the past, which left a grainy feel in our mouths.
