I am dissolving into this chair.
I am disappearing,
a little more each day.
I long only for what came before.
Take me back to that spring afternoon.
When the sea was cold and shimmering.
Just two and a bit, and totally pure.
Gentle but radiant.
Moonlight and sunlight woven together.
You show me shells and point out birds and buffalo.
Laughter trickles down from my shoulders.
I always knew I’d yearn for this moment.
And now it’s time.
I’m not dissolving into this chair.
You’re not stepping out of a cab,
late for a meeting,
five and a half thousand miles away.
No.
We’re on the beach,
on a spring afternoon,
and there’s plenty of time before dark.
