Clear Signal, Outerspace

Lizzie Harris

If we think in broader terms, we become
less content. An existence in context: all this time,
have we just been waiting? Children on a dingy
while their parents sing and point

to the occasional drifting beauty.
Yes, we'd been sent here to die, but the flesh
of fish had never been sweeter
Our time together had never been closer.

We began to know the curve
of each other’s toes, how the sun cast
different shadows in our hair. This tiny orbit
we convinced ourselves spanned everything.

Nothing pushed us through the days.
We pulled desperately.