I retract like a mollusk receding into it’s shell.
I think of the way I could simply just tilt my head back out of the passenger seat window
he drove,
moving through songs that meant the same to us.
I tickle the sand between my toes
slowly into the water while it wades around my knees,
how I could wrap my hands around his neck
just stand there while the world moved around us.

I find the trajectory of the mania, the nights where I just tried to lay as still as possible, not breathing too heavy or looking him in the eyes. How triggering it could have become if I would have
crossed my arms, sat up, or spoke.

I think of how the smoke enveloped most of our time together
blurring our vision
clouding our minds
viscerally
I didn’t need to see much further than his skin
I didn’t need to look over his shoulder
Just closed my eyes and soaked it all in.