the blanket tore and the cold found its way in. the creases in the map collecting the rain. as she struggled to determine which direction to take.
there were plenty of zippers to open as we pretended to know each other. stalled at any number of intersections. there was little skin. but so much below it. the fury of possibility erupting. hope's inevitable apocalypse.
i've seen the end walk away in silence. corners split. rafters fallen. run, limp and crawl. it never stops. there's always more horizon.
it seldom has a name. it rarely has a face. still we recognize it. that cold that travels on the wind. the echo that lingers in an empty dwelling. the lights left on.
the truth lined up like dominoes. gravity grinning.
there were plenty of zippers to open as we pretended to know each other. stalled at any number of intersections. there was little skin. but so much below it. the fury of possibility erupting. hope's inevitable apocalypse.
i've seen the end walk away in silence. corners split. rafters fallen. run, limp and crawl. it never stops. there's always more horizon.
it seldom has a name. it rarely has a face. still we recognize it. that cold that travels on the wind. the echo that lingers in an empty dwelling. the lights left on.
the truth lined up like dominoes. gravity grinning.
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