My mind, it wanders from the notions of your smile. Here I lay, shivering in the sand, with a heart that could go on for miles.
I am left like an empty cavern, hidden in the rocks that are bound to fall; like a glorious competitor, I crawl bruised, back to the line where we heard our starting call.
There I find a pile of bones — worn and brittle to the touch — with a skull that your skin once encased. In my hand, your broken fingers lie as if there, they were never placed.
May 12, 2011