Expanded from six pairs of words suggested for the purpose:
We are sitting on a cliff, shoes scraping the ledge, sun sneaking away.
There are two curdled clouds–tiny storms compacted, stifled by elastic air.
Iron bars pierce the water, generate symbols of eternity on its surface.
I develop a lump in my throat; to a body of water, anything is sharp.
And as we wonder whether good has died, whether we can be redeemed,
a fish parts the silence of the floor, stings me with the echo of a splash.
(given was:
cliff sun
storm elastic
generate iron
sharp develop
floor echo
vomit surreal
discard one pair)
I’m sorry