Damp Stars

Dead things we said. As the hare hobbled tow rad the finish. Shamed and contrarian. The fairy tale in standard stutters. As flesh echoes. In a rueful collision. The devil with his hoof on the accelerator. As the machine humbles forward. In a salient incision. Just holes. The same as there are in everything. There's just more rain in these buckets.

The solvent skid. As her lips touch the stairs. Down. Down too fast to remember the path. Dead things. Buying into the franchise of skin. Richer still for what is missing.

The patent strays. With their bright teeth all abare. Snarling their way through zombies and saviors.

The puddle of rain. At her feet. Not stopping. Even though the weather has changed.