Ethan Saul Bull is an MFA candidate at The University of Arizona, where he lives and works. His work has appeared in Octopus Magazine, Merge, Cause & Effect among others.
You and I could be outside ourselves generating air conditioning in the heating coils out above the sea doing summersaults far from the Internet and curling with the waves like mullets and in the sound of it and cooking out thoughts on the rotisserie above the coals out of necessity and
finding truth
and mosquitoes with wings made of pastry and coffee grounds with our hair done professionally with beetle wings along the bed and laying down atop the coconut palms breathing and you could say that the fans are putting the candles out before I’d notice I’d hang from the roof by my feet to make a candelabra and I am the fans keeping the mosquitoes away and you are the bottle of repellant sobbing at the scent of this new cologne I’m building the scent to out of you and
how close I am to becoming my father
which would be why I’ve decided to drink my espresso less quickly today and you could be more German if you tried harder and so then I could more easily enjoy the giant ashtray in front of the ocean the ficus beside the jukebox and we would be fully cooked and closer to ourselves
and could neatly eat with forks beside rows of Polaroids
telling the story of you and I
