map to the stars
planned a journey
paved in red and pinks
desolate and tearing
one or hundred feet
legs shaking leaves
eyes squinting blurry
nothing quite like this
bumps and torn aways
some stumbling
some falling full down
not daring to glance ahead
time passing
world growing white
whites and reds and pinks
telling tale after tale
cold tiled floors
red follows suit
sound of water running
sounds of doors locking
road halting, dissipating
something hanging there
woven tight above
a necklace made for him
