We watched you pick up all you had, stand up, walk away. This was something you left to which you could never quite return. You have to find me. "We'll come back. Maybe next year." You scarred the atmosphere with long, white trails of smoke that bent to cut the sky in half. The currents froze like sinking air. But did it ever occur to you that those half-buried and forgotten remains are what you became? They fixed your eyes with future science. They fixed your eyes to watch the shores recede, but the polluted tension of the day left your vision broken and dull. They didn't see the problem. They thought it was your eyes.