page 113

Where the sky starts

What a grand uncertainty the sky is, hard to know when you're touching it.

She raises her arm. It's a scientific fact my hand is now in the sky.

It's a scientific fact those stars are dead, he says. Their light is memory.

She pulls her hand out of the black, places it on his chest. Breath cracks and solidifies in his throat, river water sounds like a faint backing vocal.