there were green signals. tender as they are. all the turns much too precise. all directions gasping. choking on one another.
the flow of ritual. familiar dangers. the elegance of pain. as it navigates those failing bridges.
it's an easy lie that tears the seam. on frayed truths. and lazy thieves.
the waiting manipulated, but eventually betrayed. the wanting tore, but didn't shred.
it rained hard. it washed everything away. except the doubt.
long conversations. like iodine and plastic bandages. no one heals.
where it went. was never a care. what to expect. quickly expired and spent. voices souring. separating. all curds and whey.
i could see how far. the blade of the horizon. gutting its prey.
listening to the edge. waiting. for the parachute to fail.
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