We boardwalked — talking through dripping cones of cream under high ornamental lamplight — the crescent moon dwarfed by the sum of solar parts. Our eyes shied from the light; the beach beckoned below. Waves crested and crashed; we knew with our ears, but needed much more.

In the warm blind womb of the world, tiny creatures illuminated our nervous limb strokes. Sparkles above and below — nothing between but blank — the uncaring, unblinking eye of the night washed vigorously its wide-eyed guests.

Catharsis of nothing all things sank deep into our shimmering pores. Primordial death fears melted for a non-linear minute — laying innocently at rest like our unfinished dessert — waiting patiently for the return of ego.