Thursday 11/08/2018 11:33:00 PM

the angle winced. as gravity clenched. the ground was soft as we dug into the distance.

a cacophony of  intersections teased. while we consulted our maps. the sharp crackle of dead skin loud as the bridges took us closer.

we tumble. nothing to grab. nothing at all worth holding onto.

a cold lottery of flesh. auctioning each hour. profiting in the turmoil of our discontent.

touch negotiates. friction simmers. it's an ancient debt all skin must assume.

a ladder. neatly tucked under our arms. as the stairs collapse. the sober bottom. the giddy precipice. spoiling for the sliver of light to take us home.

friction sparks. weak infections of want. fumbling toward paradise with eyes still closed. .

the distance hunts. all wounds and panic. hope is a predator. all the puzzle pieces. relentless in their pursuit to fill the holes.

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