cleothedog

Tag: original

 
 
when i cut across the field
to get to the ferry dock
you were many strides behind me
and
scores of grass moths
leapt
and flew away
 
 

the ways we have
of propelling ourselves out of orbit
holding onto our own bodies with two hands
wrapped up
and flinging ourselves out into the street
when the light is low
and the bats are flying