Forty Miles

obvious thieves drew their bullets in colored pencils. taking the distance in wet thumbprints and torn resolve.

the deficit flirts with the ratio. the turn loosens its grip.

gravity composes skin. in nervous quatrains and arrogant fictions. it stumbles and collapses. a stubborn chemistry of conditions. scrapbook heroes drowning in chewed candy and dried blood. 

a fever of tomorrows. an impossible circumference. the choking road. the swallowing distance.

everywhere to be. nowhere to go.

like falling without gravity.

we suffer through the whims of perspective. always trying to measure. mistakenly assuming distance is a factor in the cartography of flesh.

a thousand lovers might be a minute. a single touch could be a lifetime.

time is small and arrogant. like we are.

the road is narrow. the curves are sharp.