Remix

[To the other E v.2]


[image via switchscreens]

(tenderness)

‘i love,’ her friend said,
‘to see ships sailing out toward the horizon on the bay.’
the girl imagined her friend could see
from the intimacy of the ferry building
the tactile tugboats disappearing into sentimental muck,
growing smaller and smaller as they tugged out to sea.
her friend said: ‘it makes me sad to see them sailing back in.
i want to say, you have a boat! go see the world!’

(anxiety)

the girl, being an inlander, didn’t share the sentiment, recalling this: the time she went snorkeling with her family off of Sugar Beach, when she stepped into the boat and was immediately seasick because
the floor was physically solid under her feet, but the boat rolled and dipped and she was pulled in opposite directions, while the life vest, tacky against her bare skin, flapped in the breeze like wings.

when the boat hit the shore
she threw up over the side and decided
an airplane would be a better way to see the world –
at least the cabin would be pressurized and
interior monologue, physical reactions, and obsessive behavior
would be kept to an absolute minimum.

(fondness)

to her friend, the girl said, ‘well they can’t sail forever.’

to which her friend said nothing. to which the girl said nothing.

to which her friend said, ‘i’m wearing my purple boots, you know, the ones i wore the last time we got indian food.’ in the city,
before a concert. it was a book club outing. it may have been the last time the girl wore her purple sneakers. which reminded her that they were living in the moment,
eager to connect with one other; two people, different from everyone around them: they were hell-raisers, punk rockers, pop rock enthusiasts nursing crippling caffeine addictions.

(excitement)

so they took matters into their own hands and,
stirred to. . .activity,
they put themselves in motion.
they drove south with the sunroof cracked open,
and composed a rock musical
and ate fast food
and felt good about their freedom
and felt simultaneously trapped by time constraints.
but it was a moment, and they were
in the real state of being, and

(resignation)

coming home was a good feeling. it was not the greatest feeling. it was neither regret nor sadness. it was unnamable.
they worried they would spend another year looking for the things they’d found on the open road and made plans to live in another moment in the near future.
maybe one day they’ll learn to live with what they’re given, but for now this girl and her friend are playing

the
waiting
game.

(contentment)

i got your card today, the girl said. it made me smile.