..that it would rain on our night we planned to return to school.
I said I didn't believe you and the "Travelers Handbook" sat on your
lap...

Cottage home led by cobblestone
Doll house familiarity
and that untimely well, lay dead in the new age of water transportation.


We headed south for supper, something urging
me to ask you why you bled in the morning sometimes,
and why that made me not want to touch you. The book
began to glow and speak so we listened. Something about
a stone and a wizard. I had no interest in kids shit, but we were
kids and your ass folded forming that crease you always hear about.

The creek was long,
it stood upright somehow
and our boats began to float vertically
like desperate salmon in the falls.

We kissed there, some excuse
flew from your mouth like "it was boredom"
and in my pocket I readied the potion.

At the top of the dam lay a stabbed horse,
war paint mixing with the blood I saw him whimper, and
before the first tear of guilt hit my eyes you had snapped
his neck saying "it's over for him now,he'll no longer have to suffer"

I wondered when my time would come...

11/29/2008

Posted on 11/29/2008
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