on the night of salt and leftover secrets, i tell him about
the Pacific Ocean, how in Mexico, they say that it does not
you can walk to the edge and curl a million secrets
under your tongue and spill them all at once and
the water will drop them the second it picks them up.
he and i have never been fond of life jackets and the Pacific Ocean
is much too deep to swim in. if you look closely, you can see the
floating bodies of those who tried to cheat love but drowned in the process.
see, humans are not like the Pacific Ocean. try as we might,
we will never forget the taste of robust love or the way a smile
feels after a long day of bearing burdens.
listen, the Pacific Ocean breaks in waves.
all we hear nowadays is each other’s silence;
the water swallowed all of our words and forgot they existed.
he and i will go swimming, desperately searching for them.
within minutes, our bodies will become martyrs for a cause
we’ll never be able to remember.