This is how I hope to remember you. The sun rising in your eyes. Blood draining down the sink. Our mess moving in reverse, until there’s no need for the dustpan. Everything is in full saturation. My lungs are not filled with smoke, and your hands aren’t shaking. The cherries have been pitted correctly and the taste of cinnamon is not one that burns. I spit out the mouthfuls of rain. Back to before the fires, before the drowning. We are whole and larger than life again. There’s no need for apologies or tripping over our words when we rush out the door. I am not drowning spiders as an act of remorse. The blue girl is never born which means your hands are clean. The pills fall back into the bottle, the alcohol sweats through the glass. We are not only searching for each other in the dark. I never have to send out a search party for my heart, because I hear the marching band of it safely in my chest. We can both rest easy tonight knowing where the other sleeps.