Pedal to metal,
pistachio shells littered the mat
A cold wind repeatedly wiped her eyes
driving away the malformed tears
small validation, her existence

One look a command
she sat in his palm
her view stretched beyond his vision
cradling him, he rocked back and forth comforted
Knowing their safety was to be sought in his strong shoulders


Spoken eloquently, saying nothing
as his eyes raked her over the coals of his mind
the smell of processed meat lingered,...cooked
Confirmed she reached though his chatter
closing her fingers firmly she removed the bologna
that once sheathed his slimy heart.

03/16/2007

Author's Note: Bologna reveals

Posted on 03/16/2007
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