At Gold Bluffs Beach


She stepped ahead of their walking, perhaps

catching him unaware because she knew

they both needed to believe this moment,

that something strange there had manifested

and they had to agree on what it was,

like the way she often stole the glasses

from his face when he pointed things out,

pretending she’d acquired his myopia,

blinking through kaleidoscopic visions,

asking how he managed to see anything

with such bottlecapped binoculars,

obscuring her seeing by wearing them

and his by not, so they could both not see

and see the same thing together at once.

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