I watched the wind coming up my street, coming up strong the cold came too, in the cloud of a short breath, it took me from you and death is a fitting end to the messes we make while relying on memory and time starts and stops and moves like a friend who we can’t ever really know
I was born in the wintertime, nestled real low in the hills of Colorado and when I can I will return and find myself a home
I was going to draw all of these lines today, but then the heat just kind of seeped in, crept through the cracks in our house and got a real hold on me and just didn’t quit. I made the mistake of trying to dodge it by going outside and I still can’t hardly breathe for it. The air was thicker than water and crackled like a busted organ and there were trees - live ones - just going up in flames like they’d given up, people melted to the sidewalk, their tears boiling in the corners of their eyes. The window glass looked like someone was tipping a pan of cooked sugar. Oh, I made it back inside, but my shoes are two pools on the front porch now and I’ve got 6 strange burns in a line down my belly where the snaps of my shirt turned orange. There’s a blue glow at the middle of everything I look at. Can’t even tell what I’m looking at now, I’ve got to peer at everything from the side like a cat, without looking at it right on.