sometimes i’d think of the coast and how i’d never really been there, not the way i’d have liked anyhow, and the ways it could have been different. i could have been different. i’d recall this one dreamlike moment when i looked up and my feet were in the atlantic and your eyes were dark. was that real? and in the pacific, did we find a surreal ocean paradise surrounded by mountains?

were we ever really there? were we ever actually real?

did we taste the salt for ourselves? i can’t remember tasting it, but i feel certain that i would dip my tongue into any ocean given the chance. my lack of this memory feels jarring. then there are moments when all of this feels fantastical. sometimes i still wonder if we’re lost in the mri. i think you wonder too.

bodies separate from souls in mirrors that are gazed in too long, so we don’t look closely.

i'd be thrilled to hear your true, uncensored thoughts. i'd also love to read your writing.