We surround ourselves with shores

 I should have. You should have. Having met at our own risk and expense. To live. The lost years. Without us. Without hands. Without truth of life. With that stifled desire. With those hours not found. We remake ourselves in the void. We surround ourselves with shores. Opposed to simple death. Simple because it takes us with our eyes closed. Like someone who does not want life. Opposed to it, it takes us away. The breath. The meat. The eyes with their cravings.

Sense, then ex-isto as a hypo/thesis.