his long fingers stretched across my fingers curled
around the sword handle like cracks
in a car windshield. the slow motion
sets in. I look up at him, the tiny
crescent moon on his chin, an old scar
that grew with him. he peers down at me
and I can feel the warmth of his chest
behind my shoulder. I am glowing. he laughs and
draws closer, almost an embrace. his fingers
are warm and smooth on mine.
he straightens my back with one
hand, the other still tight on my
good he whispers, and then the
warmth is gone and the world
is in motion once more, his absence
cold against my back.
a tree whips across my vision. my seatbelt
snaps into my ribs, steals my breath. he is running
alongside me. steady he tells me.
don’t let the speed distract you.
my mother is screaming and all
I can see is the face he makes
when his shoulder hurts the
curl of his fingers over my
fingers the snap in his strike fire
in his eyes the car
is off of the road.