The Atlantic Ocean had been burning
for four days We were told to stay inside
but we’d forgotten which houses
belonged to us Now we lie on the beach
watching the local theater company’s
production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream
In the audience one lumbering
ash man walks up to an ash
woman and leans over He looks
surprised at all the ash Like a man who
hits a deer with his car and stops
to see his full name written on its back
in Sharpie On the makeshift stage
Helena speaks of cherries We try to know
what cherries taste like Your gas mask
on top of my opera gloves The whole
wide world doused in ethanol and lit
up We’d peel our skins off
for each other for one glorious incandescent
cruise one saltwater bed of again again
Out of the corner of the sky
something is writing words They
look like they are in our language
But we both fail to read them Maybe this
is starting over
(by ecantwell)
(Source: splashofred.squarespace.com)
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