Expatriette in...

the street lights make shadows like rails for my tired body to follow as i walk around a neighborhood somewhere between where i grew up and where you're going. the light rain and the smell of september, and all you could say is all you could say. i told you how i've had tuff bones and tough bones both a couple times ago. & now i just want a stranger's trauma and crafty tools in my brain and in my hands. i know it's not interesting to you-i mean- like an older eel says, it is what it is. you beg to differ and i decide you're like a child's collarbone and boring sometime in the afternoon.