Idiot Savants

There's no thirst in this. Just a rush of waves toward a waterfall's cliff. I think it must've been me. Who else could it haven been. Tattoos too prominent. Hair undone. Knees never showing.

I used to think I wanted it too much. I still do. When I remember how. The scaffolding would sway as I'd peer into his window.

And therein was the choice. Break through the glass leaving that helpless footing behind. Or jump from it. Find my salvation in the impact.

You're not allowed to choose both, but I still did. You can't go both ways, but I always have.

To my detriment.

It should be enough just to fail. That foot on my throat should've been enough to satisfy the demon. But I still had to taste fall.

Watching the water rush to and fro like some half-hearted blow job on the land, all I can think is that we are wasted on ourselves. We'll always love someone else more. And they're supposed to teach us, but they don't know.