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The purpose of breathing is absent here,

the water filling me where air should be.

Will you become her from the wanting?

Don’t call my name, don’t call me love

With that voice when you have pulled the tide in too high

To leave room for my living.

Far better, far kinder to dash me against the rocks and let me leak

Into the sea, let me again be salt, the blood and the tears and the sea together

in the briny dark.

Call me Ado and grant me mercy, shatter me to pieces and give me back to the cold.

Tell me that my only sin was looking back as my city burned.

I write your name in the wet sand and watch it darken, fill with the ocean, and

Wash away.

Do you think those letters shape you?

Did they create us?

Are you as lost to me as they are?

Am I lost, too?

My footprints do not linger, do not endure, and I can’t see anymore

How I was ever real at all.