in town we were wanted

the townies looked at us like we were on fire. but, there was no rush to put us out. they’d rather watch the curls of smoke rise up into the half-light, like smokestacks or the arms of god. we danced along the embers to the beat of a different drummer. all folds and creases, lines that stretched from your palm to the back seat of my car. we learned how our bodies worked while the heater and radio kept time in two-part harmony, singing us to sleep when we were too tired to do anything but hold each other. god’s fingerprints are all over the window when we awake and there is a light. i don’t know where it came from, but there is a light.

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