the panic whispered. heavy lightbulbs in the suffocation of want. incandescent. all theft and shame. in the perpetuity of lost.
varieties of sober. like chewing gum and religion. a practical insanity.
how sobbed. the fever of distance. all red dresses and burnt camouflage. as the war slouched onward. in various theories and impossible causes.
maybe, she thought, still swept up in the revisions. evolution thundering inside her head. some impotent monster with sharper teeth than claws. I see the shore, though I am adrift. I know how to swim, though I've been sinking.
it's a small world they agreed. all hurricanes and patios. the grim suburbia of trust betrays us all. witches in their candy houses burn the same for every orphan.
the universe shouts. sick with saviors.
it was simple. or it was before now. travelling that narrow path between hope and defeat. just another primate with a wet matchbook and the delusion of warmth.
we wandered. drops of water in the wind. we waited. empty skeletons in a holocaust of skin. we played dead. because that was what we'd always been.
the anchor was embedded too deep. the water was too eager. the ocean came and went. like so many soiled bandages. on hungry wounds. and the lonely scars that name them.
the maps confuse her. the math of the incline a little too advanced. the arc of the flesh much simpler than expected. her voice all wet ant hills and temporary picnics.
the resonant panic of simple gods. as the weather guesses us into existence. all hills and conditions.
the cars on the shoulder. full of exhaust and freedom.
the space between us. the angles too narrow to see.