Genesis

Cylinder sacks of water filling the oceans, endless bullets of water, skins full of water rolling and tumbling as we came together. As though light broke us apart. As though light came with the rubble of words, though we die among the husks of remembering. It is as we knew it would be in the echoes of endless terminals, in the slow scaled guises of ourselves when we came together in the envelopes of ourselves, the bare shadow, the breath of words invisible; as slight errors repeating themselves; as degradation passes like madness through a crowd. It was not ordained. It was one drop of salt water against another.