charco
hot and still lazy saturday morning, you can hear the cicadas in the overgrown grass humming on the trees
Circling in the timeless dark, the rivals revolve in an endless fight, forever attuned to the breath and movement of the other, loathed enemy closer than a lover
you looked behind you and he stood there like a hopeless goddamn stop sign embedded in an abandoned road
you spin on your heel with a sigh,
fuck it
you'll never see this person again, you think to yourself. but you pass by time and time again, and maybe you smile or nod a little and think about them more than you really should. theres nothing really stopping me from getting to know them, you wonder everyday as you pass them by. "hardly anything", you say out loud, and stop walking.
hear an 8bit jam with a pixel screen fingers clicking and flashing on the buttons, the professor says it's a new adventure
"don't look directly at the sun", the teacher warns, but fruitlessly, we all raise our heads, straining to glimpse the shadow passing up over the sun, narrowing the sky's light to a shimmering crescent, a vague frown in the sky
you sweep past the hospital room but his wrinkled translucent limbs stretch and you hear his first words in a century "mary, please say something"