Aftermath

Stitching tattered pieces into a

mosasic of oranges and reds, you

pull me off of the ground and

weave your arms into the crevices

beneath my shoulders. I hum softly

into your sleeve and shift my weight

to gaze into endless eyes. Boulders

lift up away from my breaths as if

an avalanche is escaping and

crawling out into the world below.

A static pulls us closer and I try

not to let you hear me whimper.

Not everything is as perfect but

it almost feels like the movies with

hands intertwined and minds unwound.