Follow Through

We could not pass through the bars or the bricks of our cell. It was a very real prison and we were very truly contained. I examined every inch of your body with a fingertip, looking for anything ghostlike or insubstantial. You were very much physically there. We were very much physically together. We’d been had. We’d been alive the whole time. It was an awe-inspiring, vaguely admirable trick. I hope it was the baby you said. I hope the baby did it. You swelled with pride at the idea and I examined the swelling from a distance. In the photos the reporters took, we are naked, our hands held to the other’s body. There is no way of knowing how or why you came back to me. You were just suddenly a body and a voice again. It was like a gift.

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