that walking was the most difficult was

red oil was thick in the time when

my arms didn’t know if your breath was in reach,

on the back of my neck we were driving past

the place we watched our cuts get sewn

up and thrown back to us, lake side, the moon on its

back I begged him to sleep so we wouldn’t have to wake

and see the next part which is where

water runs dry and our hands bleed through

grass till they are rough touseled whiskers on smooth face

we were candied at the parts that needed to be held

watching headlights move across the field like a wishbone split down the middle

and when I said goodbye, what I meant to tell you was take me,

take me, do you know that all I want is to

not be a memory? I kept the hair you left

on my floor the color of sand and

dirt left dry, dual toned, so grab my hand

and tie me to your white flag that silver ring you love so much