September 2009
1 post
tonight.
Her tennishoes, are overly bright. In my glasses and brown flipflops. I’m ready for bed, she wants to walk. We walk, around an ugly fountain in a town that could be ghost. Cicadas upsidedown. Flipping their wings against the ground in despreate hope to be skybound again. I turn it over. It acts asleep. We walk back home. I fall asleep.
