first date with park bench Blake Levario
seats are always a
lonely thing until occupied. i don't make the rules. i follow along the
lines as long as i can see them—without an outline all of this is improv.
firetruck sirens. a jet overhead. someone is whistling a song older than
both of us combined. my heartbeat is making moon phase sounds. i'm good at
masking. my socks are all bunched up. i want to hug you so hard that we
become one ethereal thing. look at the squirrels making their lives at
high altitudes. pluto lost planet status, but as a loyal person, i still
acknowledge it. underdogs need a break too. lean on my shoulder, tell me
the secrets that you've placed in flash drives then lost. i'm not an
anecdote, but i can distract. look, i tell you, pointing at the
trees, watch the squirrels—they never fall.
|