maybe it wasn't night, but an afternoon. maybe it was that day you took me through the woods by your house to that big lonesome body of water. i forgot what you called it. i forget what it's called and you won't answer my calls to tell me. you tell me nothing. we walked through the woods, me right behind you in the wrong shoes, the sound of leaves and twigs cracking under us feeling just like whatevers in my chest, under the skin, behind my lungs. there. the world was listening carefully to us, you could tell. we sat on the ledge of a wooden deck and put our feet in the water. i was shaking. we had white wine in plastic cups, i think. thats how i remember it. if the cups were not plastic i'm sorry. it might have even been rum. i don't remember how the sky looked, things were moving too fast for that but i know i kept looking up at it. it was much safer than your eyes but not bigger. i was so nervous even the trees had heartbeats. when we were back in your room all the light from the day had shrunk and swam inside us. a radiohead song was playing loudly. i floated backwards down with your hands around my back, you kissed me how the song sounded, it was 'house of cards' - i was only half sure i wasn't dreaming. it could have been that night we got really lost somewhere on the mountain. everything was pitch black-black. that mountain grew, expanded, it made new sounds. i remember we were suddenly somewhere very unfamiliar. thats lost right? it didn't feel like lost. it felt like dreaming. i felt tall and nomadic but i was still afraid. you found everything that fell. if i cried it wasn't for sadness. i promise it wasn't. we were on the edge of something and i should have gone right over. it seemed to go down very, very far, beyond the edge, a downward, dark abyss and i was too afraid. you took me inside. the rest was what it was.
at 8:52 AM