
Below, There’s Only One Pathway
Aug 24, 2017 · 1 min read
through blackness. We’re still in Ohio,
though we’ve driven ages from home
and our tires click, having taken rocks
from the shoulder. I don’t know how
to let us go. You could be shown to me
in a trunk, all those alarms blaring,
and I wouldn’t know how to name
what I felt. That’s the shitty part —
that I would let myself be taken over
by a fascination for definition.
That’s why we’ve come all this way.
In the cave, I know I couldn’t escape
the feeling of air between our hands,
and the hard slap of my heart
sounding yours out—ruin; a landslide.
Image credit: paul morris via Unsplash
