Sunday 5/31/2009 12:01:00 AM

You say that as if it can hurt me. Your little pushpins scope to navigate my motives. In a colorful array. Of vain guesses. And self-oriented theories. The vomit on the keyboard. Colors close to the edges. So appropriate. For these thoughtless fingers. Pale messengers. Detached from the disease.

We talk casually. Content with the distance. He bleeds. Dry and dense. A connection I don't want. A touch too thick. I warn him those windows don't open, but he says he already knows. And doesn't care.

I wore nothing. As I neared the entrance. Stubborn turnstiles looking for proof.

I shuffled the deck. Certain I'd misplaced the aces. I dealt the cards. Convinced I'd lose. The monkey laughed in the background. Bridges not crossed. And better ways to fall.

We were always so close. To finding the switch. But the bulb was missing. I turned the light on. I saw him. A genie driven from his lamp. All out of wishes.

A David. A Goliath. The rock trembling in his hand. So many monsters. So little ammunition.

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