Here are the things we lost in the process:

The right to each others' skin & knotted shoulder meat.
The ability to call out to our mothers.
REM cycles.
Certain combinations of words, including each others' full names.
Text messaging.
David Attenborough.
The sweat on our palms.
Solitude in which to sob.


This is one way in which I become absolved.
This is penitence.

Let me tell you a story. It is a story about organics and evolution. It is a story about loneliness and about cravings. About empty bellies and hot showers. It is a story about salt water and bruised vital organs. About shaking at the sight of you.

Once upon a time, about a week ago, we were walking. What's that, I asked. You took my hand. The sun had set. I was unclean. You said, You've never seen a firefly before?
The end.

(in collaboration with wag scala)