The point in the afternoon when the sun goes and won’t return until the revolution is complete.
She plunges into the water like a gentle missile, all white and peaceful and here at the end of the world, where the rocks terminate in the sea, she dives and Lazarus and I see what I hear in my head.
She has cut to the chase. She has omitted the unnecessary words. She has made a canvas of her taut skin.
Neither brave nor cowardly. Neither happy nor sad. Neither numb nor feelingfull but just.
I think it is something like him. I think he is in her.
It is right to live life like an off-duty commander of soldiers.