Yesterday's Assassins

we were nowhere again. ripe in our spoiling flesh  desperate for purchase on the edge of our hunger. not falling. gravity forgotten. in the swell of famine.

i'm counting she confessed. the numbers go on. without a clear beginning or an end. long tendrils in the sway of the wind. a fickle calendar of what lost was, is, has become.

the road bent. in the way that it does. torn hems on long dresses. chasing the angles left. the distance chewed. bit down as it is given to do. always ready for the meat. undeterred by the blood.

i wouldn't try to know. or pretend that i ever could. where we went or the places where we started. i can find the lies. if i choose to look.

but there are no victims in matters of love.

only choices. louder than they've ever been. and so many zippers coming undone.