M. Hank

After they arrived at the train station in the middle of nowhere, getting off of the bus was an awful drag. It was sluggish, slow, and the fleeting flocks of people turned into deep, hurling crowds.

Take me to the Karakoram Road, I beg—

Where the mountains meet the rivers, 

Entwined with the pathways of cracked cement

Sam and Willa lay on their backs in the overgrown grass of his yard, her describing the shape of the clouds for him to paint as a picture in his head. 

Four years.

The first year the devil

Was my best friend

My

Entire

Universe

So close he could see inside my head

See inside my heart

Knew every little secret,

Every part of me

It's late when I pull into this town. the square is lively as my car sputters stop feet away from vision.

its a party. the people of the town running around and around and around, with carrots potatoes tomatoes everything the town has

Hair tucked behind ears,

Cheeks pink and glowing,

Smiles illuminated by the sun,

Weeping willow branches cascading like poetry

Onto fluttered-closed eyelashes;