It's the dried blood that ran down your calf from the rock that hit your leg that was propelled by the mower blade.
It's the hair that clings to her sweat drenched neck that acts as a barrier between your lips & her skin.
She had to meet him on Rivers Road in three minutes. Her father was still awake in the living room watching the baseball game with beer in hand. She had no other choice & in a blink was feet first out of her second story window & down the steep incline of the roof and in the backyard. Six fences & two dogs were all that stood in her way now.
It's the truck bed that substitutes for your mattress & the entangled mass of fingers that acts as a pillow.
It's the barbed wire fence that you meet on your midnight walk that stops you & asks you to look upward.
His dad was asleep & the dog was lying on the front porch enjoying the warm breeze. William knew the land well; well enough to go out in the pitch of the darkest night & walk the inclines & the ridges by memory. So, with pockets empty & a very real smile on his face, William walked to where he knew the fence line best.
It's the flippant pages that hold the words that you wish you could have said to the girl you wish you knew.
It's the sweat on the bottle that you hold in your left with hers in your right while both of your feet stand on the riverbed below.
And it was then that he knew that he loved her in a way that made him feel like death was pitiful only because it would take him away from her. So they stood there in the river, holding hands, beers in bellies & realized that they had come to a place where they would never know anyone in the way that they knew each other their in that very moment.
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