1086

I’ve worked 26 hours so far
you’re out of state
we’re going back in a few
keeping it casual

cut to
there’s a couple arguing
in the same place where we
almost split
I hear their cymbals crashing
from across the street
and my coworkers have vampire
teeth and we don’t talk
but we

gentle swipe to
the man in the barbershop
and the woman
without a wedding ring
shepherding her three kids
on the sidewalk
they make eye contact
or they’re old acquaintances

then my sad flutes kick in

spiral to cut to spiral to
I’m cowboy boots tonight
new but looking worn out

edit our narrative
can’t breathe
cigarette smoke
wake up gasping
like it was meant to be
like I couldn’t breathe
through you
like we adopted
and I’m pulling out
saying I’m staying in
saying it’s not crude

your chariot
is coming through

spin it so it’s not
poison but an old click
of a camera