Fruiting Body — Abby Buchanan

If I knewit was two daysI’d take your handand we’d run to the water.Your buttonsmy zipperclothes slumped in the sandlike we’d been raptured.But we’d wade inface the current.We’d turn our backs on itto face each other,your breathbeading on my throat.We’d standstillfeet sinking deeperlet the waves come for us.Salt in my mouth.•I’d heat oil between my palmsand let it drip into your bath,then we’d climb insitknee to knee.I’d memorize the linesaround the corners of your eyesmy mapto the place wherethe water gathers.You’d ask me to draw iton your palm,prove I’d remember.I’d feed youan olivethencrush the restin my fist.A rivulet of brineruns down my forearm,burning