Did I leave too soon?
The smell of sea salt keeps coming back to me, but that couldn’t have been you.
Did I forget something in my last dream? Did I leave my wallet, my pants, my second set of skin?
Something’s missing. That’s all I know. No beginning, middle, or end, just this. And what this is, well, your guess is probably better than mine. But I can’t find where I left you, not for the life of me. And trying to retrace my steps isn’t like looking for lost keys. Searching that way will only lead me in spirals.