Resting Pulse

The twins would chortle out of sync. The huff of decisions siphoning in his throat. Like pistons chugging against the throw of equilibrium. I wasn't lost. I just didn't want to know where I was going.

If only it were that easy.

To ignore the raven as it warns. Fools of what they are. In every frown of ink that threatens to pull the skin from empty pages. As each curve sighed from my hand to remember a face that was already gone.

The crab would laugh out loud. To himself. In a panicked euphoria that always betrayed my ability to care for him. Cradling stillborn lovers with tired arms.

Like he had finished living a long time ago.

Part of me pitied him. While the other was full of envy.

So I laid my ear to his chest and listened. To the thump of everything getting older.