we still felt
SuperRare
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