The dark staircase leads to nothing. But we take it every once in a while, to another possible fate. Silently, a figure in white is digging a grave for you. It is \u201cPurity.\u201d It\u2019s enough to make you want to splash your blood on white linen and scream. It\u2019s enough to kiss passionately on a black horse in a thunderstorm before you die. This toppled chair indicates something intimate happened. Christine, where are you driving tonight, in this heartbroken fog? <\/p>\n\n\n\n
These tire tracks indicate a swerve into the dark field. In the field is a hollow. In the hollow is a fresh, shallow grave. Christine, do you know this spot? Did you drive here one crisp night to remember how we used to feel? This metaphorical moon tells me a feeling can be mutual across many years. Most nights it feels like a knife is being sharpened at my throat. Dreams sluice out like juice from a squeezed orange. I\u2019ve been like this forever. Who have you been leaving dead on the side of the road lately? <\/p>\n\n\n\n
________<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Shane Kowalski lives in Pennsylvania. He works for the United States Postal Service. He is the author of <\/em>Small Moods (Future Tense Books).<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"