One night, I awoke on a beach, lonely but not alone.
She sat by the shore and I crept beside her.
And when she opened her mouth to speak,
an ocean swept me away.

She showed her abandoned sandcastles, lost underwater
as long-forgotten relics to represent impermanence.
I showed her the treasure chests I’d buried in the hope
of giving them to a lonely traveler who had moved on.
We rolled back our sleeves to reveal the fish hook scars on our skin —
caught only to be thrown back into the sea.

By the time morning came, I reached out to touch her
only to find myself lonely
and alone after all.