Thursday 11/12/2009 01:15:00 AM

The calm oblidge. Trusts in skin. The obvious. Folding ladders. Lacking hinges. Dirty shovels. The flowers growing right out of them. She quotes the silence. Eager to discover its inspiration. She toils in her skin. Working its weight free little by little. Until she is invisible.

She warns them her time machine is volatile. She could disappear at any moment. They don't worry.

She confesses. The world is bigger than she expected. Going there is easy. Leaving is the challenge. The basket on her arm as she approaches the villain. The red hood on her head. While she debates. If evil is incentive enough.

Her thighs a boney escalator. As I struggle for a better vantage. Her words. Just random buttons pressed. On machines I don't understand.

I warned the future to forget me. But it never listens. We went where we did. Our pockets full. We went to the future. Assuming it would be better. But we came back empty handed.

The time line held me hostage. Until I stopped caring. If the past was changed. I flrited with the mechanics. Of broken skin. The blood. Thin stairways. Patronizing bitter men.

Negotiating the demons. Within a reasonable tolerance. Stopping at the edge of the portal. Just to look. at what i've missed.

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