![]() ![]() And what about the anomalous wave that came out of nowhere and broke on itself?įaye’s eyes are open. It wasn’t at the beach that Faye had asked about the future. A body of water occupying about two-thirds of a world made for man who has no gills Ambrose Bierce. A wave, breaking on a rock, giving up its shape in a gesture that expresses that shape. It was obvious and a poem because it was us. They come 10 seconds apart and dont even give you time to catch your breath. The whole thing we looked at, the whole time you asked, was obvious. The ocean has a way of putting the struggles of adulting, Mercury retrograde, and bestie issues to rest, and dipping your toes amongst the seashells reminds you to never let negativity tide you. In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. And every wave in the ocean is finally going to meet what it moves toward, and break. 'Waves are what keep oceans from just being very big puddles. 'Oceans are only oceans when they move,’ Julie whispers. We were looking at something obvious, the whole time.’ She pinches a nipple, too softly for Faye even to feel. Baby?’–lifting Faye’s face with one finger under the chin–'Remember? Remember the ocean? Our dawn ocean, that we loved? We loved it because it was like us, Faye. 'And you asked whether we, us, depended on the game, to even be. 'You asked me once how poems informed me,’ she says. Tell people that you know your face is at least pretty at rest.’ Try to look out from yourself, different, all the time. 'Is when your face moves into expression. ‘That’s when I love you, if I love you,’ she whispers, running a finger down her white powdered cheek, reaching to trace an angled line of white onto Faye’s own face. ![]() Julie turns her makeup chair and looks up at Faye. Tell them how could you ever even hope to have what you can’t grab onto.’ Julie says, ‘Tell them there are no holes for your fingers in the masks of men. But all the faces do is move through different configurations of blankness.’įaye looks for Julie’s eyes in the mirror. And not at what the faces do–men’s faces never stop moving–they’re like antennae. Tell them to stand perfectly still, for time, and to look into the face of a man. She takes Faye’s hands.“‘Then tell them to look closely at men’s faces. When she opens them Julie is still looking at her. ![]()
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