[se] the poems we write

Evie

Come rest your bones next to me
And toss all your thoughts out to the sea

Evie turns to look, but the view isn't sufficient after seeing it all together, so she takes her notebook with her as she stands and moves to the crib to run her hands lightly over the smooth dark wood. She stays silent, reverent as she maneuvers around it to look from every angle, touching the carved figures and the latticework like it isn't real until she's felt it beneath her fingertips. Only then does she circle back to Deimos' side, where she leans into his side and wraps an arm around his waist to look down at the crib side-by-side. "I love it," she whispers, eyes still fixated on the crib. "I can't believe there's going to be a baby in there soon." It's a thought that sparks fireworks of feeling in her chest; trepidation, excitement, disbelief, awe.

To keep herself from getting choked up, she looks down at her list and writes down Diana. "I like Diana, but not the rest. Damara?" It's the only other one she can feel flirting around in her head. The neutral column remains empty, but they have made good progress with at least one name for each of the other two so Evie feels better leaving it empty. "If it's a boy, and we both like Erebos, then I would be happy not naming the girl with a D. I think names like Imogen, Eris, and Nami are beautiful." So long as Deimos does not feel the attachment she does to having that subtle connection. Given it's a new tradition for them both, perhaps Erebos is simply fitting, and will be the only child they do it with.

I'll pull up each of our anchors
So we can get lost, you and me