Hadley's Heart

We were moving the chair with both hands pointed away. Letting the sock grow red while we contemplated the best remedy. In hops. In skips. In long white strips of tape that inhale the pain like a narcotic.

I gave in and pulled on a second shirt. Letting the long sleeves erase all I'd drawn down my arms. Footnotes on life in faint scars at the base. Biographies of strangers in the moodier ones at the crease. Flawed liasons with the happiness carving the artist from his own skin.

With butter knives.

Lend me a chisel. Spare me a hammer. Help me find myself from inside all these images.

She squatted in prefect indignation. While the shadows caulked between the colors she saw. Giving a name to each and every lie.

Without hesitation.

Perfumed melancholy biting its lip again. Filling the cracks in her tongue with flavors she thought extinct.