Your accordion-like immune system has driven that photo of you into my pocket once again, to snuggling against my skin like a blanket steamed and speckled with only vague hints of vibrance and bubbly youth hidden among the folds and inks engraining themselves on the shadows; every time I take that photo out it falls prey to another thirsty stain on its folds now all gone white with anticipation and my rampant begging and dealmaking among the smell of fever soaking through the wallpaper and moist towels we used for drying you before the chill sinks in not from outside but from within, deep under the echoes of the waves and turbulence of the laughs and smiles we’ve grown used to hearing in that tone of yours that breathes life and vigor so effortlessly it can just be heard above the clock ticking on the wall. For now I’ll lay my patience and vulnerabilities by the broom until I can sweep away this helplessness, until the waves break free of the sea wall erected between us once again.




Filed under Words

2 responses to “Picturesque

  1. Blaine Verley

    Hope all’s well!

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