i imagine you suspended in water {the photo you sent me, the one where you are impossible and smoothly muscular and strange and in the ocean} 

here are a few memories that involve you

1. your blind grandfather steps on me while we’re lying on the ground

2. {unsure} There are grapevines making their tiny growth-clicks on the other side of the park. You might be saying something, but I’m distracted and don’t hear you. 

I cannot tell where the ground is. I do not understand how I am still standing. Your little sisters are at home. You look at me with tarry pits of humility instead of eyes. You say something else, smile, I understand that you have either said something funny or emotionally relevant. I smile back. Something in me is unzipping. 

3. We sew tiny clothes for dolls in my bedroom. I thread the needles for you because your fingers are too cold and clumsy. 

i hope that you are held together and that we never see each other again. all relevancy has been gathered. you are too far away and too much older and too much red hair spread out in perfect oceanic ringlets.