Will she apologize before she leaves, he wonders. Will she pack up and call him over and will they stand in her bedroom with all her things in boxes surrounding them like a cave. Will they write hieroglyphics together on the walls of the cave and draw pictures of extinct animals and will they make a fire and warm their hands against it. Will she let him, just once, have her? Will she pretend she’ll stay? Will she take her clothes off and make a bed out of them. Will she drag him down on top of her and will their bodies melt together. Will their skin rub off on each other and will they become the same person. Will they promise never to forget each other, and will they keep their promise? Will she always keep just a part of herself for him. The last joint of her pinky or the inside of her belly button or one lock of her hair that she never cuts.
writing from a piece i finished tonight.
photograph from my friend amanda.
