By the outermost shores we found a small, green stone. You wrote a sentence on my skin to help me look through your eyes.

Then I saw the third night in the stillness, in the distance. It is like that.

I don’t disappear. On a big piece of white paper.

Of all the shining, reflecting, dull. What do you count to? What do you count to? What do you count to? What do you count to?

What do you count to? What do you count to? What do you count to?

What do you count to? What do you count to? What do you count to?