.

Streaks of light.

.

Orange hazes through closed eyelids.

.

Counting cars, watching headlights.

.

Wondering to where everyone speeds off.


//


Lose count.

.

Resort to counting freckles

On your nose.

.

Your face is lit by

Passing cars and

The highways in your eyes.

.

a sodden trampoline
in the backyard
after it rains.
wet grass,
bare feet,
watching from
the screen door,
yelling through
cigarette smoke,
you'll catch a cold
but
let him live.*

he wants to fly,
forget gravity,
because he's nine
and loves to feel
like
he's
falling

like he's
dancing
in the clouds,
                 
                                      ­   take my hand,
                                         fly with me.
                                             listen to wind
                                   and outside songs.

                                  squeaking springs,
                              can’t hear my mom or
                                              the tv inside,
                                                     blaring.
                                        
                                       *take my hand.    
                                   fall with me 
                             into my seldom seen,
                                  sodden
                  ­                      trampoline.

thrashing
writhing
twitching
your breaths are
silent screams of
hot air and spit
and then
broken throats
you're imploding
because exploding would
be too loud.