grime

Colored train tracks.
Fleckless heart.
I spun the empty changes in the sickly wind, fluttering my Cuban feet
my open thumbs. In dusty bedrooms we played with dice. We moved the bricks from the bed, hiding our aching backs form the ancient grins.
IN hot summer night our faceless worries slunk back to the sea.
Salty promises.
Each was nothing but a dream, claiming us in its entirety.
and slowly as the evening faded, out melting breath caught the last of
each mistake we never made.