comes and goes in waves

// i am the man we both couldn't stand. i can't wash the dirt from my hands. what was it like to feel in love?
i can't scrub off the black from my lungs, i can't wipe off the taste from my tongue //

“Then don’t count it.” Sunjata rumbles. It doesn’t bother him at present, not when so many other things were bothering him. Jack’s favors sat on the back burner of his mind until the captain brought them up. But he draws silent, shifting enough that Jack can peer down at the diagrams. The tap at the curved one has Sunjata nodding, agreement made as he leans back to reach into a pocket to pull out a pencil, marking the one they’d picked.

He’s gotten the okay, easy enough.

So he leans back now, putting the pencil away, drawing out a cigarette that he lights and moves to hand to Jack, before moving to light his own. “Came home a couple days after.” He offers, gaze flickering over Jack’s skin before meeting the man’s exhausted, pained face. “Thanks again.” Because he’s not too sure what else to add. He’d still seen his father but nobody had alerted to anything, and he’d cocooned himself in his home the days leading from when Jack had left and Nate had returned. Already, he’s lighter because of the homecoming.

i am the shadow driving the hearse, what was it like to feel in love? what was it like to feel?

SUNJATA