mcneelie
who pulled in the driveway? who presented me this ring? where did she go? but I can still hear her. She's just around the corner, peeking, smiling, looking for me. Where is the darkness every poet loves? Why do we encourage?
The broadcast let out in song and we watched all the clouds follow the noise crawling against the sky. I didn't know where to look for the shadows, so I followed your fingers as you gingerly traced patterns in the black pitch.
both of us tied gently under the car, our mother sat soberly in the back seat watch the stars and the trees interact with each other, both trying hard to hide over the roof. I kissed you gently on the cheek and crawled out from under to listen in on the conversation beside us. The men looked suspicious.
I'll put you under the bridge. There you will seek your friends and enemies hidden in the tall grass where all is without complaint or space or restraint or haste. We'll think for another time, but for now, this must pass. Open up and lay out.
soon is soon enough but all will collapse when the sun dies out smiling from afar her hair is braided but close enough our breath matches the words we pull from the sky. nevermind. our hair is intertwined. calling us from downstairs mother holds the pot in her left hand, in her right is the stairs.
a mass on the spaceship caught me by surprise then when she caught me with her eyes. a callous hand wipes away the grime. she was washing dishes and I watched her from behind. the yard was green.
All is forgotten, all is forgotten. A generation of hard work and advancement have been completely erased. There is nothing left. There is nothing left, but everything.