all wrath and no god. The kind of look that has no heroes,
only martyrs and the things they die for. This is the moment,
library of everything you did not escape and one girl ready to destroy it, I’ve wanted this
Bill moves out a few months later—moves someplace closer to her work. The night before, we drive down to the beach to wander on the bike path. Watch moths dance in orange lamps then disappear from view. I watch her hair catch the light, hold it close, let the beams fall in the sand.