‘of course’ they said as we played in the water toe deep and more. My eyes are always transfixed on the point in which the sun sets and rises while the words escape me and wind up misrepresenting the equinox. There are choices that somehow seem wedged in the driest corner of my lips and spark chaos and lies and all that is holy in this world. We are left below when facing the rising sun and only move when the bell strikes three time three and once again for every rotation along the celestial pole. You count and I pray matching each other as we strive for forgiveness or perfection or absolution or some other grand idea that sparked a revolution. Returning from the shore side walking, as we did and always will, eastwards first with the wind and then due south along the ditch until we find home nestled between two giant trees that span between worlds.