isn't great for much,
but we get the best sunsets.
no, it's not the caribbean
certainly not santorini
or venice
or the aurora borealis in alaska
but we get by,
with pink cotton candy clouds, edges pinched and dragged
across the inky sky,
edges twirled up like feathers on a dove,
the sky behind dissolving into
shades of indigo and cerulean,
fuchsia and mango,
sunshine and cobalt.
no, they're not life-changing
but they're beautiful to me
yes, we get by
in my little corner of the world.
-a.c.b

he introduces himself
saying quiet, but slipping in, firm:

“something he knows for sure,
no is no”

I, (19, f)

replying, smiling
saying louder, firmer:

“something she knows for sure,
yes is yes”

and he says

“yes, ma’am,”

returning her smile, so shyly,
while blushing, so loudly,
thinking he said something dumb,
looking down at his shuffling feet,
covered in worn out cowboy boots

I like this guy
I like this man.

cold and icy field
wintry roads and snowy hills
bleak and sorrow mind

people are better at a distance
like millions of miles away...

the absence of you
hits like ecstasy

in the lake of my tar-black pupils
you can see the regret

my teeth chatter loudly
but you can still hear the sound of goodbye

right before the crash