Last night’s moon was gone. Replaced. By a long line that carefully
divided the blue of the sea and the sky. Into two. You could follow
the line until it disappeared. Right where the tip of the island.
Extends out. Into the sea.

When he came out into the kitchen he looked. At the small carton
of milk. Still on the counter. And smiled.

I had gone out earlier that morning. To a small shop I had remembered
seeing. Around the corner from the house. I passed three yellow cats.
He had told me there are a lot of cats. For some reason. On the island.

We could go out to the beach later.

That would be nice.

There are chairs. I could get them out. You know. It was weird.
When you got out of bed earlier. I wasn’t really awake. But I kept thinking
that. I still felt like I was inside of you.

I looked over towards the window. The plaster walls were white. But
had started to darken. Up where they reach the ceiling.

The rocks on the shore. Were already warm from the sun. We walked
as far down as we could. Right to the edge of the sea. The water was so clear
that the rocks below our feet. Were perfectly visible. There are things like that.
Unexpected in their nakedness. Like coming upon a woman. Whose body is made out of glass.