When I look closely, I see that everything is enacting the only thing ever enacted. That great explosion that happened so long ago has resulted in the gradual and lustrous unfolding of us all, like bright multicolored sleeves of a sweater that keep stitching at the ends. The sun is doing the same unfolding everyday, tossing around, turning its face side to side. We unfold gently too, a favorite shirt getting worn in with each wash. You bend side to side on a deck chair at the pool and chew on your lips, painting your toenails a red that looks raw and bitten. I see light waves in the water writhing, intersecting, and coursing through each other. You unfold your legs to get to the other foot and I predict a similar thing for us- we will unfold, one of us soundlessly falling off a hanger. Our lives intersect for a moment and you course through every part of me, leaving me raw, bitten, and writhing in your wake. I’m in the pool, squinting at you in the light, and I’ll paddle endlessly here until my sleeves stop stitching.