How Soft We Were

 we were young. the small numbers overtook us. as we folded our sullen maps. awkwardly negotiating the creases time was making in our skin. 

knocking on hollow doors. picking at cracked windows.

a fever of when. 

our bodies all puzzle pieces and spit. as we chewed on the corners of trust. monsters in tight skirts. telling our stories in dirty thighs and empty picnic baskets. 

arguing with the witches and the wolves. as the moral smothered our bravado.

we solved for when. piecing together our time machines. as if we had any choices left.

we lingered in the folds. tethered to the creases under our skin. we shouted at the truth. as if it could be persuaded. 

thieves with nothing left to steal.