Drawing Game cont.,

Did it make your heart race faster still?

And is it all so undemanding

now that it unravels at your feet, down the long expanse of time yet to come?

Well, no, I suppose not

I suppose it meant little to you

as these things go

I suppose it was just an inaudible pass

of fluids between beings
She admits it now

I was charmed by your advances

And isn't it just wild how the burden of supposition in a crowded room holds no weight?

How it thrives in the unsettled gusts that surround you

passing through the clamoring mouths while you fall, again, silent and still

Two Seed

I've been missing

And I suppose you can call it living
Who's to say?
Shit, you could say things are just fine, and I'm just fine and when I'm gone, my bones and skin will turn, again, to dirt and the earth will continue to spin on its axis

Everything is so simple. See?

I remember the manner in which she clenched her teeth

My lip lodged somewhere in between
And I pressed her spine parallel to the wall

and went after her, I was a lion

She would taste my lust

the way I regurgitated it outside two houses prior

"Call me"

She'd say and I wouldn't
Even though I would want to
I went there because I could, because I wanted to be lost
but in a physical sense, not the way I'd always known myself to feel, inside me

And the following moment?
how to condense it?

I was discovered
The headlights blinding my animal eyes
What was I to say?

My synapses never connected
and in an instant, in a moment I would not remember, all that I had worked to protect was away from me

Oh, no

Oh well

There is a story here that has yet to spawn

and I suppose when it does, it'll be as insufficient and fleeting

I guess loneliness is too far gone, repentance too insufficient

There is something to be said about trauma or the lack thereof
Sometimes it is a thing to laugh about, with solace, in the security of aftermath
Comfort in stability

Baby, How Long?

Things

smmr 09

Dead Things

Brown Book Prose #10

We made our way to a shabby, aged trailer

Deep in the wildernesses of Nowhere, Virginia

Speed limit 10 in Glens

20 on Main Roads

The waters were docile and the green from the trees above

Looked like algae on the water's surface

I couldn't seem to focus on anything but the gravel in my canvas shoes

And she told me there was no time like the present

Well how shall I know she's present?

And we made love so that everyone could see

I realize, now, that we were everyone

We were fighting for our lives because who knows how long we'll feel this young, right?

She scribbled something sloppily in Spanish she probably thought I'd neither see nor comprehend

I told her about my infatuation with this American wilderness

But she didn't believe me

And I sang her that Outfield cover

And she didn't believe that either

I can recall my voice

While checking the time like late December in Manhattan

What happens now?

What does that mean?

I think it means, er...

Is this en route to inevitable destruction?

God, you worry so much

We can always continue from this ellipsis

It has always been a habit of mine

To acknowledge every cloudings potential to metamorphose into a downpour

And I arose to a desolate space

Devoid of all affection

And I realized the seeds I had planted had taken root

Fair to say, packing my umbrella was a worthwhile decision