We watched you pick up all you had,
stand up, walk away.
This was something you left to
which you could never quite return.
You have to find me.
"We'll come back. Maybe next year."
You scarred the atmosphere with long,
white trails of smoke
that bent to cut the sky in half.
The currents froze like sinking air.
But did it ever occur to you
that those half-buried and forgotten remains
are what you became?
They fixed your eyes with future science.
They fixed your eyes
to watch the shores recede,
but the polluted tension of the day
left your vision broken and dull.
They didn't see the problem.
They thought it was your eyes.