AnyhillLeafy fingernails of the citytrees hugAnyhill
the late afternoon light and dance to their own music,
leaving a blurry photograph on the wall behind them:
Reminder of when the day we met in tenth grade
We made a horror movie; I was murdered
You rubbed ketchup blood on my pubescent torso
that genetic metabolism allowed ghosts of muscles to live on;
I used a drill, as a prop
You screamed, you had problems with your contact lenses.
We had the same belt but different.
You flirted and played video games with me.
And the time much later you bitched me out, and I was
Devious Journal Entry
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if you're falling off a building you may as well try to fly... what have you got to lose?
[link]
High five.
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