it's too long of a trip
from the spire of the temple
to the docks of the city
to the stolen speedboat and out onto the open water
it gives us too much time to talk

he wants to talk
he asks me simple questions
cracks bad jokes like when we were children
as if we still are
he pretends like we still are

i don't want to talk
it's too late

it's a beautiful morning
the sky above us is pink
living in the city, i never really saw the sky that much
i was never an early riser

i wonder, silently, if he was also enjoying the morning
he has his back to me
to drive the boat
and i cannot see his face
i almost dare to ask him, but i hesitate to break
the seal of silence hovering between us

there's too much to say, and yet

there's nothing to say at all

we're hours into our trip, heading south
(i did not ask which direction we were heading in, but we passed the island hours ago and there's really only one direction to go. i don't know where he's planning to take us)
(i don't think he knows either)
by now, the horizon is entirely ocean
there is nothing but him and i
and our element
or, his element now
if he ever claims it again
i hope he doesn't.
i hope he can't.

he talks the entire time
spells hope for the two of us
i wonder how his voice doesn't get tired
i forget he's been gone this entire time, for over twenty years
i wonder if he got vocal training during that time
i know the reason why he would.

he does not look me in the eye
i know why, he is afraid
there wouldn't be any other reason why
i tune out most of his words
he tells me of his life, of his lover
i do not return the niceties
i do not tell him why

i take my opportunity
the moment I've been quietly anticipating since i boarded the boat
(against my own will, for the most of it. there is nowhere else for the two of us to go)
i have not my element, i have not my strength
but what little i have i can put into this
it will be the better for the both of us

i know that he can feel me
like i could feel him before
a sixth sense we both grew up with
(one he stripped from me, but that's beside the point by now)
he can feel me, and he's smart enough to figure it out
despite having every capability to
he does not stop me
i wonder why

here and now, there is nothing left of us
for the better of the world we will go out silently
a candle left to burn out
it's probably better for the universe to forget us
that's what i tell myself.
in actuality, it is an act of selfishness

oh, how we have fallen
oh, how i have grown
i no longer wish to be remembered
i no longer wish to be known
the only solace the world could give me now
is a quiet death
as quiet as it can be
and to be forgotten by the universe

it's been to long

he doesn't try to stop me, despite knowing what I'm doing
it's all the consent i need. if he had shown hesitation, i would've stopped
(he could've stopped me within a breath if he cared enough to do so)
he didn't look back
he didn't say a word
leaving me to end it all for the both of us

i wonder if he, too, understood.
i wonder if he thought of looking back
he couldn't bare to look me in the eyes one last time
i wonder why.