Acer Sacharrum

My bluntstones are muddy

and kicked off

on the floor

my feet are tucked underneath me

we're on our way home.

We drive by the yellow car

that's too broken to go anywhere

but it's hill

I dream about you still,  
do you dream of me? 

It is no grand affair, these dreams 
not of your smile, your hands, your kindness 

your cruelty 

Part 1 

“Have a good night.”

“You too,” I responded dryly from behind the counter.