(no subject)
Cigarette stank. One day this will be a foreign smell - I hope. Made -up babies rotating on a platter, aging quickly. It never felt so good to take the mask off. We start out running, then walking, and finally crawling toward a safe bed. Toward loving arms. Praying that if we only make it to the door they will carry us there. Just kiss me on the head and tell me that I've done all I could.
"Do you have babies?" She said. "What?" "Babies." She repeated, cupping her bare breasts under stringy hair. "Oh. Not yet," I replied. And we smiled numbly, like soldiers on our way to the front.
"Do you have babies?" She said. "What?" "Babies." She repeated, cupping her bare breasts under stringy hair. "Oh. Not yet," I replied. And we smiled numbly, like soldiers on our way to the front.