Knuckles knee-deep in bright orange dust
Her words half-crunched
In a hurricane of hurried lunch
I mix in wit to her serious plot
Her mouth flies open, filled with half-chewed corn starch
And she still looks like a matriarch
We turned the radio on
But was gradually turned down
The ridged knob twisted all the way around
So she'd mention a song and I'd ask her
"How's that goes again?"
To hear her voice slip in and out
When really I knew it all by heart
Even when there was no reason to,
We smiled
Giggled off each other's cues
She looked from me once
Her eyes widening like a telescope
Mouth gaping, absent of laughter, as she braced a hand against my chest
The liquid-like sucker punch
Of the metal colliding quick
Like jelly under a rolling pin, I stuck
Grasping onto prayers with my fingers loose as God
She didn't scream, just held my shirt
As my tumbleweed Taurus vaulted yet another foot
Into the same solid ground, the same stars of shards
Mingled with bright orange dust sifting through the air.