the days grew heavy, with time on their backs.
hold my hand until i roll
I’ve got nothing but an hour or so. Meet me under the wheel…
Your humble narrator, concupiscent with desire.
We stood there thinking light was reverent, when in actuality, god’s don’t make horseshoes or prisons.
Everything is ringing on the inside. Honest to pulse.
“It couldn’t possibly hurt.”
“I’m afraid it does. We used to watch the cars pass and dream.”