Wednesday, July 29, 2009

5 am, all still

Remember this, all this, all the years? The early mornings, the woodsmoke and the red-eyes and creeping around trying not to wake him, even though my skin was roughed with excitement and the day outside was breaking.

I might slip out the window. Careful not to snag.

We could stand outside, then, in the wet grass, while the pigeons cried. Our feet would go numb, remember? We could kiss under the elder tree, even though it was forbidden, even though we were drowned by the noise of the river and nothing we said was right. Your hand over my mouth.


Emerald said...

I read these three posts backwards (started with the most recent). I'm not sure if I was supposed to do that or not, but it seemed like an interesting "prequel" kind of sequence, you know?

Anyway...I found all three somehow poignant as well as beautiful. Thanks.

Nikki Magennis said...

Hey Emerald - I'm not sure either! I was awake at those times, so I just posted them as I wrote them. I was kind of curious to see how they'd look in the cold light of day.

Thanks very much for reading!

Craig Sorensen said...



Nikki Magennis said...

Aw, thanks Craig! I think they could probably use a bit of editing, now I've had a cup of tea.