at first, it's dark. i am blind and stumbling, i clutch and pull and you say you don't mind.
it's wet. it's like drowning with your feet grounded. when i part my lips, i taste rain. i taste salt.
"where are we?"
"almost to the end."
after, it is cold. my hands are numb fists shoved in my pockets. my heart is muffled here. everything is muffled here. i taste blood in one corner of my mouth and when we exhale, it's in one breath.
"everything is deserted."
somewhere in between we have warmth. there is softness. i press my ear to the steady inhale-exhale of fragile lungs. a heart that beats twice the rate of my own.
in between the starkness there is cotton. thick and nostalgic.