"Weight” by Natalie D'Alessandro
I will inherently blame you for the weight of the
Earth. Her covetous hands pulling, wanting so wholeheartedly to be
the exception. Drunken slurs, too soon forgotten. The dimness of
the glowing light on Illuminated, endless August nights of hoping
and smoking. Our bodies blocking the light, casting masses of
dark into the yard. Smoke filling our lungs. Marlboro Gold
tucked on just kissed lips. Falling from them into the
cracks of the wooden deck, where we fell together, but
were not exceptional, subjected to cracks below, darkness where
wooden boards protected us once, but fell out of favor.
I will inherently blame you for the weight of the
Earth. Her covetous hands pulling, wanting so wholeheartedly to be
the exception. Drunken slurs, too soon forgotten. The dimness of
the glowing light on Illuminated, endless August nights of hoping
and smoking. Our bodies blocking the light, casting masses of
dark into the yard. Smoke filling our lungs. Marlboro Gold
tucked on just kissed lips. Falling from them into the
cracks of the wooden deck, where we fell together, but
were not exceptional, subjected to cracks below, darkness where
wooden boards protected us once, but fell out of favor.