He washed up on the beach of her sorrows, one eye closed, the other full of sky. She bent to comfort him, but was afraid: touching him, she might drown, the sea rushing through her fingertips to sweep her away. It didn’t take much: by day, dream-shadows lurked, lost in the light and needing the damp safety of a body like hers; the night was a mouth; even over lunch in the sunny park, happily eating a salad of crisp, fresh greens, the air shuddered: one could be pulled by the roots back down into the living earth.
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