You see them moving from stone to stone
if you don't look too hard
even now romance has been burned away
arc lighting, halogen transparent shadows
guardians who know nothing
else long dresses & hair a dash from 23
to 24 trust nightfall, no matter what
You'll need a satchel to carry the book
smooth the print your fingers, happy
nothing done can ever be taken
Did you hear that sound?
the crunch of gravel
the gentle smoker's cough
held in
almost nullified
manipulated
No wonder you turn
to yourself
planks nailed tight
so sleepy
and now it's a comic book
from the 50s
more of an annual
not a weekly or monthly
its frames map out the adventure
enough to last a lifetime
as good a path
as any will suggest
hard covers
but you fold
betrayed by those
you allow to betray you
they're the worst
guiltless, self-composed
they want more and more
any method they can think of
but it's all in the book
you thought was fiction