Touch is a treason. In a war of the absurd. Her eyes like wounded soldiers. Her smile like grenades. We wear each other in sparse threads of skin. Toiling to undo the knots that keep us together.

her lips are summer. her face is winter. the seasons change us. but on them we have little effect.

i draw my boxes. the stale geometry of if. stumbles. caught in life's moist cement.

he listens to her breathe. inspired by the prescient cadence of her sleeplessness. ledges like gods. loud and arrogant. lovers like zippers. coming undone. teeth biting everywhere. there is an opening.

her monsters are small. easily swept up in her fury. the flames from dragon's jaws. Tentative. As they wait for that burst of water. The strangle of contrition that proves the darkness.

she tastes him. in furtive licks. stolen from the fist of ogres. she feels him in the pull of years. as the world pretends to discover its villains.

she closes her eyes. confesses. that it's too far away.

she grabs the zipper. And pulls down hard. disappointed when. they can still see her.

all of her poisons too weak.

Guest post of the week by Val Flores

The Superbowl is less than two weeks away and the teams are decided. I could have told you back in September the Patriots would be in the big game but I wouldn’t have picked the Giants to go all the way. Although my wife is happy to have me available once again on Sundays, it’s hard to believe another season of NFL Sunday Ticket has already come and gone! Of course we have one more Sunday to go when we watch the Superbowl but after that it’s time to tackle the honey do list my wife has been making over the past few months. I’m sure there are quite a few small projects I can knock out in a couple of weekends but she has been pretty quiet on big projects. Although I’d like to think that means she doesn’t have one past experience leads e to believe otherwise. My guess is that she has something major she would like for me to do but she doesn’t want to hear me protest. I’m guessing the week after football is completely over supplies for the project will start showing up in the garage and once they are purchased I won’t be able to get out of it!

treble flames. point their dominoes. away from the sun. the pitch of gravity reveals. the parasite of confession. eager needles. punch the wind. their poison the only reason to keep climbing.

yellow like truth. sticky and sour with blame. blue like love. soft and foul. the porch door trembles. the glass in the windows shudders. laugh. let me fall. let me stumble and be of their ridicule. I am content to be laughed at by idiots and loved by madmen.

her stories tell her. child climbing ladders just shy of heaven. unaware that she's always been high enough.

skin like cataracts. adds to the blur. little piglets. brick houses. ripe to fall down. the words spill from her fingers. in a thunder of conditions. desert and cloud. like symphonies in her head. crack and multiply. until everything is red.

the nightmare befriends her. in small steps and fractures of bricks. the wolf breathes. in his quiet oppression. empowered with the sickness.

the creaking lantern. the faltering wind. the backdoor. the thin glass between lovers. That lets me see what they really want.

the sequence. the surrender. torn invitations. as her party goes on. without strangers. without friends. dense with the science of men. heavy with the friction of surrender.

as red as her choices. as blue as the voids they've left her with. her broken toys play with her. long after the bulbs are dead.

and the monsters we let live us. are all that they'll remember.

prepare the wolf. soft swords. like fading memory. quiet floods. in the ripe of her arms. the beautiful girl. the ugly truth.

tell the story. in pink cheeks. and doubting arms. the whisper of right against the roar of wrong.

the shrug of the apple. more thread than needle. as it mends those holes.

let the monster inside. play the martyr. to wasted saviors. pressing the absolute. soft buttons. slender threads. work their way through the doll. in stiff smiles and frozen tears.

loud liars. befriend the battle. soft soldiers adjust the war. until everything is sober.

bad dogs. chewing on the bones we've left. stray gods dance on the strings of puppets.

Loose threads. for the monsters to pull on.