Comedy

There was ceiling everywhere. Goading, sure. Panting like a stamen about to burst. And steal the nose off of the clown's face. There in the big sign that had been watching over us while we filmed the ride from every angle. The words waited to be written. Judases desperate for a branch. Strong enough to weigh the guilt.

We never said goodbye. We just let it say us.

I took the long way down the stairs. Outlining the toes of the labor. I tasted the darkness before every bite. Imaging the poison my prisoner.

I bit every nail down to nothing. Averaging the decimals in leaps. I was the chikcen who crossed the raod. To get to the other side. I was the punch line. To so many jokes.

Still am.

We could dance if we wanted it. We could beat those ceilings.

If we had to.