Peddling Prophets

little men with their eyes missing.  taken. robbed. the heft of the climbing rope feels right in her fists. the itch of its fibers. the tears in her skin. like elections. for which hour will happen next.

every breath a contract. a poorly struck deal. the nightmare wears her. a ziper at the back and a button at the center. the dark sweats inside her. as weak as it is superior. pale engines flirting with dirty gasoline. rudimentary choices determine the structure of complex machines.

deaf lovers. listen only with their words. change confronts. browning leaves. tiring braches. gravity eventually claims everything.  it's not like we could fly. but it was good to pretend. that we were more than just the world we inhabit. more than just what it preceived of us. simple colors. vivid with the heat of moments. rooms empty with so many beds. a series of doors quietly closing.