By Addy Evenson
When the brown moths would gather on the ceiling, you would take them up in your hands and set them loose outside. Yes, I miss that.
And you are right. It is true that I was vengeful. It is true that I was impossible to pin to the carpet. And I used rhetoric to slip out of body. But what you wouldn’t hear, what I tried to tell you, was that I felt like a fish on the shore, begging for water. Love me, please, hear me, please, see? You kept telling me, “The sand is water, so swim in it.”
Prototypical dilemma of lovers, beautifully expressed.
Thank you. –Addy Evenson