Everything that Rises Must Converge

And so, Goodbye.

Goodbye to febrile frustration. I will soak in saline different from that which has washed my cheeks for many months.

Goodbye to dreams of ease in the timeless heat. I will blaze my way through bracing winds and wet woollen skies.

Goodbye to dank shame and the rot it breeds. I will seek my cure by the sea where dreams draw new life in leisure, in the drowsy succor of mulled wine and delicate fish flesh, in waves that beat stones into sand into stones again. . .

. . .And we, my love, will be just as enduring.