pumice

The salt lifts my bloated body making itself one with my saline tries for osmosis, equilibrium

it's storming now, in the conduit chamber with the cables that run between us

they corrode with the salt pushing in they are muddled and stomped from the treading

there's always a lot of water involved in endings

outside the air brings the storm and when not water, lightening or rumbling

from your square shoulders looming over lunch, forward over mine

the eruption of your volcano the steam as it hits my water the black sand it makes

finally my face salty as the water black beads swallowing to the brow.