monologue (I)

an excerpt from a forthcoming work

a boy: do you remember?
a girl: yes
a boy: green the day spilled out over a thin sheet of fog
a girl: and i think that it’s always been like this
a boy: filling itself out from behind the stars
a girl: one long gray morning
a boy: and i’d never seen the light quite so strange
a girl: the sky yawned and tried to call itself purple 
a boy: its fingers stretched out over the sea
a girl: and in the halflight before dawn i watched the waves crawl along the shore
a boy: streaks of shadow just lighter than the rest
a girl: i think that tomorrow will be just the same
a boy: all gray and still some unaccounted for
a girl: because they’re all days aren’t they?
a boy: one and the rest
a girl: things which last no longer than themselves
a boy: the same name a million times over
a girl: a procession of pity
a boy: what a terrible fate
a girl: made to watch the sky shatter
a boy: i envy them
a girl: are we not like they are?
a boy: something flashed out above the dark surf
a girl: i took my hand in the other and i felt that it was still warm
a boy: now finally there was just enough light to see
a girl: and i thought it strange that i should be longer than the days
a boy: at dawn in the tepid green of the tidepools i caught my own eyes
a girl: it isn’t supposed to be like this
a boy: and there i found that i was frightened
a girl: i think that they’ve forgotten me
a boy: because when the moon rises i will have nothing for it
[a pause]
a girl: what sympathy 
a boy: what hubris