quiet fictions

the last week we share
a bed, our favorite dining
rooms, a final jam with people
you still do not call friends.

i trip over the future
wad it up, throw it
in the trash.

we play cards
watch the daily shows
wash the dishes.


when we speak
it's to talk of small
pieces of the day, how's
the pink boa project,
what new faces of god did
you wear?

flights of fancy take wing
when we kiss. but



these are short stories, flash
fiction. a moment's diversion from
real life goodbyes.