Soon, it will be summer. And you will lie topless on the beach and remember the day we were there and watched the giant yellow bulldozers pushing the sand around.
Rust bubbles
Rust bubble, oil pressure, he rides the bus in the rain. The warmth of the heater at dusk. That familiar and unexpected sadness.
Accountability
Accountability and a dirt road, that’s all that keeps me from you. A bit of heaven, a piece of earth, and you. The great unwinding as I feel the tension slipping away, the pulsing heat in my groin, releasing me.
Quietly accepting
The two men sat in the fictional convertible and the older one put his hand on the younger one’s knee. What he told him next ripped through me. I thought about you, alone, and with no way forward.
Thought Experiment
“Relax,” he said, “this is all just a thought experiment.”
Last day of magic
A song about the weather, a song about how good it feels to face the fiction.