CRUMPLED, GRAVELED, PARTICIPATE, GHETTO, COLORLESS, WINDWARD, TAPESTRY, SCRUNCH, MUTUAL, ASHES
...the graveled road from head to heart"Newly Human
Windward was the way she said it.
Standing there, on the graveled road that leads from my head to her heart,
looking up at the puckering, ghetto moon, she described
our mutual attraction and circumstnace as the natural outcome of two
people gritting their teeth, their faces leaning out,
like a masthead to the gale of emotions that are nameless, colorless,
and newly wakened.
The cartography of our comings and goings,
Once laid out, crisp, perfectly accessible, a tapestry of maneuvering
and negotiations, rote phrases and routine interactions,
Crumpled in the wind, fell like ashes on the tops of my shoes. In your hair.
And so we are windward. Newly human.
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