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that walking was the most difficult was red oil was thick in the time when my arms didn't know if your breath was in reach, on the back of my neck we were driving past the place we watched our cuts get sewn up and thrown back to us, lake side, the moon on its back I begged him to sleep so we wouldn't have to wake and see the next part which is where water runs dry and our hands bleed through grass till they are rough touseled whiskers on smooth face we were candied at the parts that needed to be held watching headlights move across the field like a wishbone split down the middle and when I said goodbye, what I meant to tell you was take me, take me, do you know that all I want is to not be a memory? I kept the hair you left on my floor the color of sand and dirt left dry, dual toned, so grab my hand and tie me to your white flag that silver ring you love so much
