the boys who kiss and bite
they are the brilliant ones
who speak and write;
As the morning warmed her back, a lizard drew her attention away from the sun’s slow progress. It crept along the stone around her feet, periodically pausing and looking around. Sometimes it bobbed up and down on its legs, posturing before skittering forward again, sometimes it just stopped and watched her watching him. After some time of indecisive exploring, it finally settled in to sunbathe as well.
She wondered, was this what lizards did all day? Every day? Or did they have their own dramas that played out under leaf and boulder, below foot and overhead? They seemed so carefree. How often did lizards have to fight bears or try to escape from demons? How often did lizards have to run away from home to keep themselves safe? Never, she decided enviously, watching her lizard blissfully close its eyes. Oh, to be a lizard.
The stranger’s quiet approach silenced her existential musings and put her uncharacteristically on edge. Normally she welcomed company and was excited to make new friends, but the last few days had left a sour taste in her mouth, and she rose at the sound of his footfalls in case it was time to run. She watched him with careful eyes and a lowered head, but in the end he seemed harmless enough: he kept some distance between them and perched comfortably on his own section of rock.
His greeting was friendly; his voice was pleasant in her ears, and it drew a reluctant smile out of her. She hesitated a moment, then relaxed and sat back down, rocking her ears forward good-naturedly. “It really is,” she replied brightly. “I wasn’t sure I’d get to see it.” The implications of her statement were dark, but her voice was cheery; she was grateful just to be alive.
Her eyes ventured out over the cavernous terrain, gradually making their way back to her guest, whom she eyed shamelessly – as was her way. He wasn’t bad-looking. He didn’t seem any taller than her, though there was definitely more to him. She imagined he would outweigh her, even if he couldn’t outrun her. Overall, she liked looking at him, and had no opposition to his company. “What’s your name, stranger?”
they sing in clever tongues
oh, how my knees go weak
to be the one;
H U S H
five ** bound by Dante ** midwestern crater ** |