Wearing the Distance

the small is tremendous. as the ratios surge. in fits of corruption.

he said it hurt. and i believed him. despite the absence of blood.

we told our stories. like melting ice cream cones. disappearing into the rabid sun. everything much too alive. our sticky fists. our empty bellies. wearing the moment in so many fractions. choking on the fickle decimals in our flesh.

it ran too fast. then it was gone. and i was a place. not just a path. but i didn't know how to be that kind of stranger. so we lied and said it was over. 

a consortium of skin. each piece spent louder than the next. the hunger resolved. the distance infectious.

our voices paper. our bones cement. as we staggered between grief and expectation.

we pretended to know each other. and for a time the lie was enough.