The Bones of the Sea

There was an aching distance between the bones of our hands. Cold air intertwined through our fingers and I felt the tips of our bony elbows touch, despite our unspoken efforts to keep distance from one another. The warm, full coffee cups seemed to linger in the air before us, their heat penetrating our skin being the only thing that kept us grounded.  I didn’t dare look at his face; not his rosy lips, not his sharp nose, not the sunken skin of his cheeks, and never the blank hollows of his eyes. Their newfound emptiness sunk deeper than their previous yellow brightness. A small patch of warmth fell on my left shoulder. Startled by the feeling of human warmth, I felt my head tilt towards its direction. And I saw them again. The warmth turned to cold. The cup slipped from my hand. Endless amounts of brown liquid fell; over the tribal patches that covered the worn out, plastic table; over my numb, useless hands; over the floral pattern of my mother’s summer dress. But I felt no warmth from the liquid as it steered though. His empty eyes hovered above me, but I sensed behind them a newly lit spark.

Inside them, I remembered. Stars of green, patches of red, blue, and yellow, iron fences, sunlit smiles, and laughter. The peaks of grass tickled my calves, thighs, and arms. I saw everything in a bright, clear day while my eyes darkened into the blackness of the night. White doors opened and shut at the click of my heels. Vines tangled in his tousled black curls. The water rising to meet the walls of our home. Breaking windows, falling vases, our feet twisted together at the foot of our bed, his tear falling into my left eye, our muffled voices drowned by the sea. “It’s free! We’re free, don’t you see?” I shouted. And we kissed and kissed and kissed.

Then there was nothing left, only our touching elbows and careful hands. The silent nods of approval in the mornings when the sun hadn’t yet raised form its bed.

And I loved him, but he was gone.

And he loved me, but I was gone.

This probably makes no sense, but it means so much to me.

I hope that is enough.