Raw Portions

The taper on the candle cautiously implied. The weight of the flame. She gathered her darkness. In rolls. In bits. Chunks of carrion. After the light had feasted.

She hurried the science. To explain. These seams in the fabric. Just needle and thread. Torn patches haplessly connected in knots and scabs. The villain scowling. The hero too perfect. The story told far too many times.

Her lips like vinegar. As I choke on the sour taste of happiness. It's too much. I wanted the ache to last. Shatter the glass. That makes these monsters into men. Sell the sign posts. That I've encountered. On this dead path.

She warned me about forgetting. But I wanted it too much. She said it was choice I should fear. The hopscotch game of addicts. Throwing rocks at empty squares.

The numbers chaffing her thighs as she begins to count again.