I thought I heard Canadian slang from the opposite bed-side Like it's 2009, rub some lines off my face. Inner space bleeding outward, deep red, a nosebleed, angled points on white of The Maple Jack. A Nip at the Sal's on Esplanade-Riel.
Grab your runners and toque, it's warm, but not forever and these legs are sore. Polar bears on the sweater you wore in the Fall-- Churchill, Manitoba, the streets are full of teeth and claws. Awoke and wanted warmth lacking. I thought I heard Canadian slang.
I thought I heard "it'll be okay" from the voices of feathers fletching arrows falling. they whisper and screams sink deep behind eyelids closing. A sentence unfinished, sinking in flesh in time sinking in snow and ice sinking in water in Summer sinking in memory.
I thought I heard plans being made and shy laughter. I heard it 5 times. Didn't I? Days fade, ears dull* Walking on streets, in the cold towards her home I thought I heard laughter-- heard something like laughter-- I thought I heard rain, as the Lodgepoles drank water.
I thought I heard laughter.
I thought I heard wax melt. I thought I smelled fairness. I thought you wanting more time to bleed and blur tenses. I thought I heard rivers rushing and roaring their battle cries-- --asserting their presence. I thought I heard cars pass and sounds of the daytime and late March walk along bridges.
I could swear I heard something Like Canadian slang, sweet water light laughter. Something.