I don’t remember where you came from, but at the time I was perched on a sand
dune. You sat down and squinted into the sun, we didn’t touch. Your hair was haphazard, blond at the tips, brown skin, ragged, a face
that didn’t smile.
You led me into the sea and we swam, about 100 metres away from shore, heading
for the horizon, we were surrounded by swelling blackness, legs and arms
working hard, it seemed like the water below was as deep as the height of the
sky, but still we swam further and further from safety.
We stopped and faced each other, treading water, glancing briefly toward the
distant shore where silhouettes with waving arms showed panic in the shape of
the gestures they made. You came close but didn’t speak, I saw freckles on your
nose, you were unsure ‘we should go back’ you said, your voice sounded
strangely out of place and the words seemed hollow and hung awkwardly in the
air just above the black water. I said nothing. Then I kissed you on the mouth, our
legs rubbing under water as they worked to keep us afloat, your lips felt cold and
tasted of salt.
Thank you for reading this blog post.
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