Fell from a high place. Was thrown by someone. (the wind). The memory returns to shout me awake with a volume of regret. I was pushed... And Landed on my knees. My skin is stretching thin and I am afraid to be lost in the sky. The sky is no longer a blue that can be trusted. So we cling to one another. Our mouths seeking the taste of salt. Please bear with me as I become all too familiar with my form spawning on this ground. The body: a collection of spillages.