The grass was higher than her hemline
and when we ran it whipped tallies into her skin.
Faint reminders of her feints at death
that ran along each artery.
like leaves tossed high upon a summer wild
into the seasons greetings.
It greeted her;
the sun kissed her as an idol. So did I.
A hazy bronze summer dulled slowly.
I tasted copper in my mouth,
spat blood into the sink: ashamed, disgusted,
We sat apart together
over gravy boats and salted wounds.
She remarked on the rain.
She reigned over her mark.
She had my trachea wrapped around her little finger and,
once or twice, she twisted.
She was twisted.
I grew cold to her; afraid.
But eventually, one not-so-special morning,
the sun came up.
Spring, I thought. Spring, I did!
I got out of her house
and out of her hair, like she’d nagged me to;
I ran and the grass made me higher
than her hemline ever had;
as I ran and it whispered tales of freedom.
Faint reminders of faraway places that ran deep
inside my arteries.
I was free again.