130.

Her backbone, long used
as ambition's ladder, broke
its spine by bending.

129.

The wound of those eyes,
haunted by betrayal, bled
into me. Aching.

128.

The imprint of the
seam from his backseat stayed pressed
into my flesh for

hours after we'd
been done. Sweat slicked and quiescent.
Limbs holding skin close.

127.

That moment, when the
shine of your eyes is still lit
with joyous laughter.

126.

It was there that I
saw you, standing on the edge
of a bridge, tilting.

125.

Souls dancing in their
own honor, celebrate far
more than mere bones can.

124.

The echo of saints
herald a memory for
the future as well.