we were both idiots.
that's how we ended up here.
sharing this cell
at the
t i n y
town prison.
your hair is a waterfall, a cascading
i c y
blue that contrasts with your dark, thick eyebrows.
it is similar to the chlorine pool i just vandalized.
i think that's why i like you.
i wasn't fast enough.
i sped down the highway,
you know, the
one where there was
that dui driver last summer
the one
that caused the
massive pileup.
the one where no one was unscathed.
my mom was in that
accident.
i wished that
she left dad and i, and
didn't explode into
a burst of red flames
in the wreckage.
your eyes.
i can't tell if they're
contact lenses,
or actually red.
your hair is platinum,
and your skin is like snow.
and your lips
which i try not to focus on
are the purest pink
i have ever seen.
i can't get enough of you.
that's why i haven't
escaped yet.
the two of them
stand awkwardly
in adjacent corners of the
cell.
the grey cubicle
where they'd have to spend
the night.
both girls are beautiful.
both girls doubt themselves
but not the other.
in fact, they've never been so sure
about their futures
until now.
so with a start, they peel
themselves off of the
sticky
grey
walls.
and they meet each other
halfway
with their stories
of adventure and doubt
to.
they are close
closer than they are with
other people.
so close
that they are together
adjoined
conjoined
as they speak a language
only they know.
and with a start, after
hours
and hours
and hours
are spent speaking to one another,
the vampire girl
kisses
the waterfall on the lips
reveling in the taste of sea salt
and saltines.
and waterfall girl tastes
the bitter taste
of dark chocolate.
the young and reckless have found a place.
