• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 12
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You imagine that you sleep in innocence,
but everything points to you, even the edges

of incoming waves. Your blanket holds you
in its pucker like a burn, the cigarette lifted

away. Beachgoers, too, give you a wide berth
as if they sensed the hovering drone.

Only you are dead to the world. Only you
have let this and other things happen.